


Rebuild or Recreate?

by 100percentfluffster



Series: Begin Again Bunker Family [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Play, Asexual Relationship, Blood Drinking, Childhood Trauma, Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Sam Being an Asshole, Supportive Castiel, Supportive Crowley, Supportive Gabriel, brief mention of rape, rocky beginnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-06 05:25:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10326557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100percentfluffster/pseuds/100percentfluffster
Summary: Castiel and Gabriel have doubts about their plan when Dean reacts in an unexpected way. Can they rebuild Dean's childhood, or will they have to completely create a new one for him? Can Dean let go of his fears? Will he ever understand what the angel's are trying to give him?





	1. Chapter 1

After the lunch, Dean wanders out to the bunker to let everything sink into his head, but after a couple hours he finds himself once again standing in the room that the angels had said was his.  _ His. _ Not Sammy’s, not a motel bed with too many springs interacting far too intimately with his body. Not even the bunker bed that still felt cold, where the mark would zone in and torture him silently. This whole room, all of it,  _ belonged _ to him. 

Dean walks over to the bed and lays down with his arm behind his head and his legs crossed at the shins. He lays there and just looks up, smiling softly at the slow movements of the white fluffy clouds on the ceiling. Dean lets his mind wander and he soon finds himself thinking of Sam. Asking himself what he had done to finally drive the younger man away. Dean scolds himself internally and forces his thoughts somewhere else. 

Dean is tired though and the bed Gabriel picked out is the comfiest thing Dean has ever felt. He’s used to hard beds and magic fingers. He’s used to peeling wallpaper and dirty bathrooms. Dean lets himself smile again and relaxes even further into the comfort. 

Dean fights the heaviness in his limbs and the droop of his eyelids, but before long he drifts into sleep, clutching the soft forest green comforter in both hands as he lays on top of it. 

Castiel walks in a couple hours later to find Dean passed out, fully clothed, in the new bed and the angel smiles. He smiles wide and radiantly and he can’t stop the overwhelming pressure of contentedness from rising up in his chest. He closes the door quietly and stands in the hallway, staring at the dark door. He loves Dean in every way. He knows every atom of that body and soul. He knows Dean will not give into this easily, but he also knows this is exactly what the love of his life needs, to fight both the mark and himself. 

Castiel walks away intent on giving Dean all the time to sleep that he wants. Castiel stops for a moment to reach out with his grace and the next moment Dean’s phone appears in his palm. Castiel makes sure there are no calls or messages waiting for approval, and then slides the tech into his back pocket. Nothing is going to wake Dean up but the sun and his own dreams. 

Castiel moves through the rest of the house, making last minute adjustments and rehearsing speeches that he’s positive he’ll need in the future. Dean isn’t as stubborn as his little brother, but he gives Sam a good run for his money. The rebel angel keeps himself busy as the afternoon and evening go by. When Castiel runs out of things to prepare he sits on the couch to wait for the stirrings of Dean’s soul. 

___________________________________________________________________________

Dean blinks several times to rid them of the weight of sleep and reaches his limbs out in all directions in a hard stretch. There is warmth, from the sun outside his windows, that falls on his exposed arms and face. It lulls Dean into an almost serene state. But then the mark begins to itch and burn and he can feel it as it worms its way to the front of his consciousness. Dean sighs as the inevitable shakiness and headache cement inside him, and then forces himself into a sitting position, his legs dangling from the edge. 

Dean looks around and is surprised again by the care taken when creating this room. He thinks of what Castiel is asking him to do, and in that moment, it feels right. It feels easy. He’s wanted to let go of the darkness and the weight he carries for so long. He’s never complained or wanted to, about supporting Sam and dad, and everyone else in his life. But he’s always longed for that kind of support in return. 

He knows Sam tries, or rather tried, to give him that, but his little brother seems to always be in trouble, always needing that comfort more than Dean. The man stands tentatively and walks to the door, but doesn’t open it; he turns to once more take in every aspect of his room, and struggles to fully accept that this is his. He then opens the door and exits with a light feeling in his chest. He makes his way to the bathroom to get ready for the day, and then heads down to the living room, wondering where the two eager angels have gone. 

He spots the messy tangle of his angel’s hair immediately and makes his way over to him. He plops himself down on the surprisingly comfortable couch and looks at Castiel. The angel in question turns to Dean with a warm smile and a twinkle in his eye. Dean silently groans and thinks of the injustices of the world. His angel always looks so damn innocent and lovely. It’s not fair. 

“Sleep well?” Cas asks. 

Dean just nods and collapses into Castiel’s lap. He yawns and finally speaks, “Gabriel has good taste in beds. Never been so comfortable in my life.”

Castiel smiles but asks, “But you’re still yawning.”

Dean shrugs, “I’m always tired. That’s not true, exactly. I’m used to being tired, but exhausted like this? I think it’s the mark, you know?”

Castiel’s brow furrows at the words but he nods in understanding. “Yes Dean, I know.” Cas pauses in uncertainty before asking, “Does it hurt very badly, Dean?”

“Yes and no. It stings and burns at all times, yes. It drives me near insane with bloodlust and so much else, but it hurts at completely different intensities, depending on mood and circumstance. Sometimes it completely takes over, but sometimes the sting is barely even noticeable.”

Castiel then replies as he always does, “Thank you for telling me, Dean.”

Dean blushes at the words, just as he did when Castiel started the habit. It was a strategy to get Dean to open up to him more, and Dean will never admit how effective it is. 

Dean changes the subject, “Where’s Gabe? Shouldn’t he be snapping my dreams into reality or some shit?”

Castiel almost admonishes Dean for his language but bites back the impulse and just replies, “It’s just me and you today.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, we have many things to discuss.”

Dean swallows and sits back up on the couch, leaving a good gap of space between them. Castiel blinks in disappointment but doesn’t let it show, he doesn’t want to overwhelm Dean and send him running. 

“We need to figure out some rules, Dean.”

“There are rules for this? Really?” Dean jokes. His insides are roiling, and the calm he had earlier disappears into the depths of the pit in his stomach. 

Castiel ignores the feeble joke, “What do you want from this?”

Dean scoffs, “You’re the one who wants it, not me.”

Castiel fixes a look on Dean and it claws into Dean’s chest, “Dean. I know you better than my brothers and sisters. I can feel your soul and often times feel your thoughts. This is something I was thinking of suggesting without the soulbond. This is a great way for you to let go, to trust in your safety and your happiness with someone else. You  _ want _ this, I can feel it. And not just for the mark, you crave to be cared for and protected.”

“I’ve never wanted to be a fucking child. I never was a child, so why should I start now? I’m a  _ hunter _ , Cas, not a slobbery snot nosed kid!” Dean doesn’t really understand where the hostility is coming from. He does want this, though he’s barely accepted that himself.

Castiel frowns, “You can’t hunt right now, Dean.”

“You think I don’t know that? Everytime I try, the blood makes me feel sick with temptation. It looks too beautiful and the urges take me over.”

“I know.”

“So how do you expect the mark to let me have this? Whatever  _ this _ is!”

Castiel sighs and gathers his thoughts for a couple moments. He finally looks up at Dean, staring hard into those hazel green eyes, and says, “Dean. I want nothing more than to scrub the mark off your arm. I want you to be happy. To be content. I love you with my mind and my grace. You’ve taught me so much and saved me more times than I can count. Dean, you’ve seen me at my worst and my best. You’ve seen me sick and tired and desperate. You helped me be human in the human world. You taught me the shame of blind obedience.” Castiel clears his throat and blinks away the suspicious sting in his eyes. “Dean, in my millenniums of life, you’ve seen the parts of me that no one knew were there. In months. Do you think that was easy? To be in front of you stripped of my powers? Useless?” Dean’s mouth opens to console the angel, but Castiel holds up a hand with a small shake of his head. Dean settles back down into his seat but he looks concerned. 

Castiel swallows and keeps talking, “I know why you’re doing this, Dean.”

“Doing what?” Dean asks. 

“Avoiding this.”

“And what is this, exactly?”

“Your vulnerability. Embarrassment. You’re scared, Dean.”

Dean says nothing and Castiel watches as Dean hangs his head. Castiel places a warm hand on Dean’s shoulder, pressing into where Castiel’s hand was burnt into the human’s skin years ago. After a tense silence Castiel continues, “That’s okay, Dean. I’m not here to take you apart or to shame you. I’m not here to hold you up to impossible standards. I know that this can get messy and hard, but I know that it’s worth it. Because I love you, Dean. And I long to care for you, in whatever capacity I can. When I think of taking care of you like this, like my baby boy, all I feel is pride and excitement and love and warmth. Dean, I want this. I need this. Just like you, maybe even more than you. You’re not ‘giving in’ to anything here, you’re gifting me with your presence. With your soul.”

Dean fiddles with a stray string from the hem of his pants as he listens to Castiel speak. He can feel the raw emotion and need in his voice and longs to reach out to him to comfort him. But he can’t. He doesn’t know why, and the distance between them is suddenly a chasm in his mind. He wants Cas’ hand back on his shoulder. He wants to curl up against the other’s chest for safety. Because, Cas is right. He’s scared. No, he’s terrified. 

But surprisingly, he’s not scared of the clothes or the toys, but rather the hope that’s threatening to choke him. Hope has never done him any good. It has only laughed at his disappointments. He knows that good things don’t  _ happen _ to him. That was made clear the night he carried his baby brother’s body out of the house and into the hunting life. 

“Cas,” Dean finally manages to say, though his voice cracks on the name. “I just...you don’t want this. You can’t.”

“Why is that, Dean?”

Dean looks up at the ceiling to keep the tears, he knows are lurking, at bay. “You just can’t.” 

“But I do.”

Dean sighs in what he assumes is frustration, but feels a lot like relief. “Cas...I...you don’t und-”

Castiel interrupts and asks, “Are you hungry, Dean?”

Dean stops short and blinks in his confusion but says, “Yes…?”

Castiel smiles and stands up, offering Dean a hand up. Dean reaches out for that hand quickly, the desperation to close that gap between them welling up even stronger at the opportunity. Dean chastises himself for his eagerness, reminding himself that he can’t expect too much. This, like everything in his life, will burn to shreds before he can protect it. Before he can stop himself from messing it up.

Castiel then pulls Dean across the living room and into the kitchen. Dean hops up on the counter when Castiel lets go of his hand to open the refrigerator and watches the angel rummage through the appliance’s contents. Dean is curious about what’s inside, but doesn’t move from where he is to get a look past the door. He instead scratches at his arm and wills his heart to slow down before it runs away without him. 

Castiel makes a small sound of victory and pulls out several tupperware pieces filled with food. Dean squints to see what’s inside them as Castiel closes the door. Castiel looks at him with a grin and then snaps his fingers. Dean looks over in shock as a huge assortment of food is suddenly displayed beautifully on the island counter/ breakfast bar beside him. The tupperware that lays empty in the sink. Castiel turns to the cupboards and grabs a plastic plate and starts placing the food on it methodically. 

“Sit,” Castiel orders. 

Dean responds before he’s properly thought through the word. He sits at one of the stools before the breakfast bar and then rolls his eyes at himself at the automatic obedience. Castiel places the plate in front of him and Dean looks at it in frustration. He can’t see the design on the surface that he caught a glimpse of as Castiel grabbed it, because there’s pancakes and bacon and berries and eggs and hashbrowns covering every inch of the dish’s surface. 

As he is glaring at his food, Castiel grabs a matching plastic cup and snaps to fill it with white grape apple juice like the day before. He purposefully did not pick a sippy cup, but rather a wide plastic cup with no lid. 

Dean looks across the island at Castiel and says, “Really?”

Castiel shrugs his shoulders in an uncommon gesture of indifference and says, “You’ll get used to it, Dean. And if you let yourself, you’ll love it.”

“This plate?” Dean mocks in defense. 

“The ‘little’ head space.”

“How do I even be little? I’m an adult. I’ve seen and survived things that would kill most men.”

“Childhood isn’t about innocence, Dean. It’s about being cared for. Just stop fighting me, and it will come naturally.”

“And you think plastic plates and cups are what I need?”

Castiel sighs in frustration, and places his hands palm down on the island as he takes a deep breath to calm down. No one can rile him up quite like the Winchester boys. Especially the older of the two. “The plates aren’t important, Dean! This is about you. Trusting me and yourself.”

Dean lowers his eyes to the plate again and picks up his fork. He sends the angel a look when he realizes his spoon is also plastic with tires painted along the side of it. It’s thicker than real silverware in his hand and it feels so foreign to him. He starts to eat the food and finishes it off in mere minutes, as he tastes the perfect flavor of every bite. He freezes as he finally notices the picture on the plate and stares at it. It is a perfect cartoon image of his baby. The impala. He looks at the cup and sees a similar drawing of his license plate wrapping around it. 

Dean can’t stop looking at the two dishes as his mind flicks back to earlier memories. Of the impala and his small and broken family. Of a scowling Sam, and a drunk John. Remembers hiding Sam away when John drank too much, or things got too out of hand. He thinks about his mom and the fuzzy but strong memories of her golden hair and wide smile. 

Dean shifts on his barstool as he comes back to the present. Castiel is saying something, but Dean can only hear a faint ring of an echo. He’s pulled out of his limbo when Castiel’s hand comes up to cup his cheek. Dean blinks and finally sees what’s really there, rather than the past. Castiel is next to him now, standing between his legs and looking Dean over in concern. Dean smiles shakily at him in reassurance and the angel relaxes greatly at the action. The tension is still obvious in both men though, and they get caught in each other’s eyes, like they often do. Dean will do anything to hold this moment forever. This is what terrifies him. He’s finally earned something good in his life. He has a home, a family, and he has Castiel. He can’t lose that. He can’t drive his angel away. It would kill him far faster than the mark. But Dean has a spark of hope, that maybe Castiel won’t leave him like everyone else. 

Dean can’t stop the question on his mind from tumbling from his lips, “You’re not going to leave then?”

Castiel blinks and his mind lags as he tries to catch up with Dean’s thoughts. He speaks confidently once he has, “Of course not. I’d never leave you. I  _ will  _ never leave you. We’re in this together, baby boy. Always.”

Dean can feel a small thrill run through him at the pet name and he allows his hope to grow a little more, liking the lightness and strength it lends him. Dean looks Castiel in the eye and says, “Okay.” He then spins back around on his stool to the island and begins grabbing more food to refill his plate. 

___________________________________________________________________________

 

Dean checks the time after eating and is shocked to find that it’s one in the afternoon. He then shoves his hands in his pocket looking for his phone. A small swirl of panic begins to form in his stomach as he begins going through all the places he’s been where he may have left the device. Castiel watches and snaps his fingers to deal with the dishes, and food. 

“Dean,” Castiel says. Dean looks up at him, but it’s clear his thoughts are elsewhere. “Dean. You don’t need a phone now.”

Dean looks, more than anything, desperately confused. “What?”

“You’re going to be little. My baby boy, and little kids do not have phones.”

“What?! That’s too far, Cas. I don’t have the phone for me, it’s for people in need to call me.” Dean can feel a panicky lump forming in his throat. He can’t let anything happen to his family. You never turn your back on family. 

Castiel remains calm and looks at the flustered and red cheeked man in front of him. As he expects, Dean continues speaking, “How the hell can I do this? I mean, the house is nice. Thumbs up for the archangel on this, but who are we kidding, I’m a Winchester.” Dean starts scraping over the mark on his arm in anxiety. Castiel watches the action with concern, but Dean remains unaware of his actions. Dean’s momentary panic allows the mark to seep into his thoughts, “I’m already restless, Cas. I need a hunt. I  _ need _ a hunt. Give me something to kill.”

Castiel allows a pause to fall between them as Dean starts shaking where he’s standing. The man’s mind has blocked out most of his other thoughts and his insides curl up in a desperation that he knows is wrong, but can’t remember why. Dean’s eyes are fixed on Castiel’s and the angel can see a familiar gleam in the green. “Dean,” Castiel starts.

“Give me my damn phone, Cas!”

“No.”

“You can’t no me! I’m not a child! You have no right!”

“How’s the mark?” Castiel asks drily. 

Dean stops moving for a moment and finally notices that he’s been digging his nails into his arm, trying to dispel the burning. Now that he’s thinking about it, he can feel the fogginess in his head that comes and dulls all other thoughts outside the mark. Dean sighs and drops his hand, and closes his eyes. He tries to disconnect from the desire to hit something and tries to push the heat back down from his thoughts to his arm. 

Dean exhales roughly in defeat a minute later when he fails to relax his body or mind. He feels like he’s wound up tight and doomed to explode at any time. He clenches his fists to stop the shaking and looks up at his angel. “This is not the time to mess around, Cas.”

Castiel replies, “I’m not ‘messing around’, as you say. Little boys don’t have phones.”

“What the hell! People in need of help call all the time. Other hunters needing some lore researched. You can’t--”

“Charlie has your phone. She’s synced your calls into her supernatural database. She’ll deal with any calls. Remember, Dean, you’re supposed to let  _ me _ protect _ you _ .”

Dean’s mouth opens the second Castiel finishes speaking to bite out a response, but he can feel the unnatural heat of his temper. He’s reminded how volatile he is, that he can’t get mad, or bad things happen. So he forces the words down and clenches his fists even harder, using everything in him to fight down the temptations of the mark.

Despite his efforts Dean still feels bereft without his phone. Without a weapon of any kind. He’s a hunter and it’s his job to kill the things that go bump in the night. Castiel can’t take away that resource. How is he supposed to know what’s going on out there without it. Dean knows that’s exactly what his angel is trying to do. To cut him off from the life. He remembers being told that he needs to let go. 

He knows that Charlie will take care of everything. She’s completely revitalized the hunting life and community. She has servers full of information that all hunters can access, though no snoopy internet browsers can. She has every hunter in America, that they know of, synced up with their own tablets that track jobs and who is where. They call in for lore research and ideas on hunts, and Charlie has taken over Bobby’s job of being all the needed authorities to satisfy anyone who is insistent that hunter’s prove their credentials.

In short, Charlie has created matrices and algorithms and taken over Bobby’s niche in the hunting job. She rarely goes out to hunt on her own, instead choosing to manage at the bunker. Hunting has never been smoother. But Dean still worries, he can’t not. But he also knows that if he were to see Charlie in this moment, all he’d be able to do is snap at her. That realization pulls him out of the fog. He swallows around the tightness in his throat and focuses on breathing and keeping his mind clear. 

The mark is destroying his family. His family is weird and scattered across the country most days, but he’d do anything to protect it. 

“If something happens to them, to anyone…” Dean trails off, only half aware that he’s speaking aloud.

“Charlie will manage all hunts,” Castiel replies eager to placate the man.

“That’s not what I mean. What if something happens to...Sam or Claire?”

Castiel pauses in confusion for a moment and when he sees the source of the question his heart fills with warmth for the righteous man. “You’ll be told, Dean. We’re not asking you to be shut off from the people you love, we just want to keep the hunting life at a distance…”

Dean raises an eyebrow, “You mean, keep me at a distance so the mark doesn’t hurt someone. Again.”

Castiel nods and his face is slack in his calmness. Dean breathes heavily and collapses back into the stool he’d stood up from when he realized he didn’t have his phone. 

“So rule #1, is no phone. But you promise, and I mean  _ promise _ you’ll tell me if anyone needs something. Not a hunt, but anything else?”

Castiel’s lips twitch into a momentary smile and he says, “I promise.”

Dean exhales and cups his hand over the mark, wishing there was a way he could cool it down. Dean chuckles with no humor as he remembers, that’s the whole point of this. To fight the mark. He can do this. For his family. For Cas. 

“What now?” Dean asks. 

Castiel says, “Now, you start over. Have a real childhood.”

“With you?”

“Yes.”

Dean feels a small amount of excitement at the thought, but he doesn’t know what it’s for. If he didn’t know better, he would think it was a jolt of joy, from being relieved of his phone. Of his first real moment of allowing himself to be treated well. Dean smiles at Castiel, but it’s merely a flash as Dean stands up once again and turns away from the angel behind the island. Scared by his own eagerness.

Dean walks to the living room and lays down on the couch. His head is pounding and his muscles are tense. Everything hurts. Even the roots of his teeth. He’s gotten used to it over the last several months, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Dean feels his legs being picked up slightly and then a form slips by and settles on the couch, allowing Dean’s legs to drop again. Dean knows that it’s Castiel and he gladly lays his feet in his lap. “Rule #2,” Castiel’s voice rumbles through Dean’s entire body, “is that you call me daddy.”

Dean splutters and his feet hit the floor as he sits up rapidly, which only results in his head throbbing worse at the movement. “Are you serious?” Dean manages to say.

Castiel moves forward to put his elbows on his knees in an attempt to mimic Dean’s hunched and pained figure. “Deadly.”

Dean grins tightly at the response. Cas is becoming more and more human each day. In mind at least. 

Dean slowly sits back up so he can see Castiel, and the angel himself moves with Dean. “I didn’t even call my own father ‘daddy’.”

Castiel smiles and says, “Good. Because I am not him.”

“Doesn’t it feel awkward to you? I mean we’re like, together, outside of all this.”

Castiel makes sure he has Dean’s attention before confessing, “It makes me happy, Dean. You’ve given me so much,” Castiel shoots Dean a look when the man tries to interrupt and downplay the statement. “You’ve given me so much, but please give me this too. I want to be your daddy. I need to be your daddy, more than I can say. I have never wanted anything more than to hold your soul with my grace and help to heal it. To treat you the way you deserve, Dean.”

Dean swallows down the emotions Castiel always brings up in him and he looks down at his lap. He breathes steadily for a few minutes. The silence should be heavy or awkward, but instead it’s soft. Castiel watches Dean’s soul as the man steadies himself, and gives him whatever time he needs. Dean will do anything for Cas. They both know this, but Dean is the only one filled with anxiety at the thought of it. He has to be the perfect child for Cas. John always told him he was a pain. A disappointment, he  _ cannot _ afford to do that this time. 

Dean finally raises his head and Castiel is shocked by his first words, “Da-Dad-Daddy...I’m going to take a shower.” Dean’s eyes are wide and looking to the side of Castiel’s face. Castiel reaches a hand out to touch his baby boy, but Dean flinches heavily at the movement. Castiel finishes the motion anyways, and places a heavy hand on Dean’s shoulders.

“Little boys don’t tell daddy what they’re doing. They ask,” Castiel replies. 

Something flashes in Dean’s eyes but the man blinks and sighs and says, “Can I take a shower?”

“Daddy.”

Dean huffs before saying steadier than before, “Can I take a shower, daddy?” Dean’s skin flushes with heat and Castiel watches the pink dance across his features making his freckles more visible. Castiel has to force himself to focus.

“No,” Castiel says. He watches Dean’s shoulders slump and his jaw tighten, but he doesn’t say anything. Castiel raises a brow at the reaction and continues, “Do you know why?”

Dean’s eyes come back up to look to the side of Castiel’s face and says so softly that Castiel almost missed it. “No, sir.”

Castiel flinches himself at the words. No wonder the boy didn’t respond; he was obeying an order. The way John had raised them. Castiel can feel anger start to creep into him, anger at John Winchester and his parenting, but he pushes it down. He has to focus on his boy now, has to teach Dean how to relax and be cared for, rather than trained. The angel stops to think over his options. There are many ways he could handle this situation. But the moment is fragile and Castiel doesn’t want to break the calm. “I said no, because little boys don’t take showers often. They take baths, baby boy. Do you want a bath?”

Dean clenches his fists again but only says, “Yes, sir.”

“No sirs here, Dean. You are not a soldier. You have choices here, Dean, I may have my rules and I do expect you to follow them, but this isn’t a punishment. Do you understand?”  
Dean doesn’t but  he’s determined to be exactly what his angel wants so he says, “yes, s--, yes.”

Castiel knows that this lesson will take a long time to finally cement inside the man, but he doesn’t push it any more. He instead stands up and says, “Come on, baby.”

He holds out a hand to Dean, and Dean grabs it as he gets off the couch, but lets go once he’s standing. Castiel wants to snatch Dean’s fingers back, but he doesn’t. He walks up the stairs and down the hallway to the large bathroom that Gabriel created. The angel then leans down and starts the flow of warm water, trying to find the perfect temperature for Dean’s sensitive skin. Once he finds it he pulls up the knob to stop the water from draining and stands up to look at Dean. 

What he sees is like a punch to the stomach and Castiel is frozen. Dean is hovering in the doorway looking around the room with big green eyes. His hands are clutched together as if he doesn’t know what to do with them and Castiel has never seen the man looking so small and scared. After another cursory look of the bathroom, Dean’s head falls down to watch the moving mural under his feet. Castiel steps forward after he recovers and places his hand on the small of Dean’s back and gently leads him into the bathroom and shuts the door behind them. 

Dean stands in the middle of the bathroom now, but with the same lost expression on his face. Castiel would do anything for Dean, anything to get rid of that expression, of the uncertainty in the boy’s posture. The angel calls Dean’s name and the boy responds and shuffles over to him. Castiel smiles at Dean and says, “Silly boy, you’ve still got your clothes on? Do you want to get your clothes all wet?”

Dean blinks and says, “I’m sorry.” He then pulls his shirt over his head. Dean has never had a problem with nudity, and it’s nothing that Castiel hasn’t seen, but Dean can suddenly only think of the little tummy he has. He’s not ripped like his brother. He’s stronger, but doesn’t look it. Dean berates and reminds himself that this is Cas. But Dean can’t help but feel like this is the first step of many that will drive the angel away. He tries to stay calm but knows he’s fighting a losing battle.

Castiel watches Dean remove his shirt, but then he stops. His shirt hangs limply in one hand but his eyes are downcast and his body stills. Castiel takes the shirt from Dean and sets it neatly on the counter. “Baby boy?” he asks in concern. Dean’s body has gone from frozen to shaking in just a few seconds. 

Dean starts moving again at the question, but his body continues to shake. It’s barely noticeable, but Castiel knows Dean. Dean is stripped and standing before him in seconds. The boy then adopts his earlier pose. He claps his hands in front of him and his head goes down to the floor. 

Castiel steps closer and pulls Dean’s face up to his by the boy’s chin. “Dean?” Castiel asks, “What’s wrong?”

Dean automatically responds, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, Dean. You don’t have to be anymore, remember?”

Dean nods and says, “I’m sorry” 

Castiel suppresses a sigh and instead moves to stop the spout, the water is high enough. “Do you want to get in, Dean? It’s ready.” 

Dean stiffly gets into the tub and sits down, but pulls his knees to chest and lays his head on his knees. Castiel is unsure now. He expected a fight, having to drag Dean through this process tooth and nail. But this? Scared Dean? Perhaps Sad Dean? Castiel doesn’t know how to deal with this. He wasn’t  _ prepared _ for this. 

So he grabs a washcloth with a cartoon crab on it, and begins to clean Dean’s back. He drags the cloth over the skin he can reach without forcing Dean to move. He thinks of taking out the bath toys, wants to draw a smile out of his baby boy. But he doesn’t think Dean will respond. So instead he leans back on his feet, where he’s kneeling next to the tub, and slowly stands up. He returns the washcloth to the small towel bar in the shower wall and sits on the toilet to watch Dean. 

Dean barely moves, but does look up when Castiel has been gone long enough. Dean spots him on the toilet, nods to himself, and stares at the spout in front of him. Not really the response Castiel wants. 

Castiel stands and says, “The water will be cold soon, Dean. Would you like to get out?”

Dean nods and stands up out of the water and steps onto the little rug beside the tub. Castiel holds out a towel and asks, “Do you want to dry yourself or have me do it?”

Dean shrugs and grabs the towel from his hand and dries off quickly and efficiently. He reaches for his clothes on the counter but Castiel puts a hand on his and Dean freezes. Castiel says, “You have clothes in your room, Dean.” Dean nods and walks out the door to his room. Castiel follows in confusion and trepidation. He finds Dean staring into his closet at the clothes, seemingly unable to pick anything. Castiel waits for a few seconds before he gently passes Dean and walks into the large closet. He grabs a simple long sleeve green shirt, a pair of soft light blue underwear, and a loose pair of sweatpants. He hands the small pile to Dean who changes into them. 

Castiel asks, “What do you want to do, Dean?”

Dean looks at the angel now and Castiel has to hold himself forcefully still when he sees how empty his baby’s eyes are, how somber his expression. Dean says, “Don’t worry, I can entertain myself.”

Castiel frowns, “Is that what you want?”

Dean nods and Castiel says, “Do you want to go downstairs then? Most of the toys are down there.”  
Dean shakes his head and Castiel nods and leaves the room. As he’s leaving he can see Dean sit on the middle of the floor, within arms reach of nothing. 

Castiel hurries downstairs, already reaching out for his brother with his grace. Gabriel is in the kitchen when Castiel gets there and he looks concerned. Gabriel says, “Hey, what’s up, bro? Where’s the little brat? He didn’t run away did he?” Gabriel feels his joking tone die eerily between them and his concern increases.

Castiel sighs and replies, “No, he didn’t run. He’s done the exact opposite actually.”

“What do you mean?”  
Castiel waves his arms half heartedly as he tries to find words to explain. “He’s, I don’t know, given in. It was like a switch, one minute he’s Dean and the next he’s… just _blank_.”

“How long?”

“Just an hour or so. He was alright for breakfast, stubborn and argumentative of course, but he was Dean. Then we had a conversation on the couch and we went up to give him a bath, it happened right around the middle there. He just shut down.”

Gabriel tries to laugh it off but his chest feels tight. He gestures towards the stairs and Castiel nods. They both walk silently to Dean’s room and peek in.

Dean has taken a blanket from his bed and wrapped it around himself. He’s sitting again in the middle of the floor, his back to the angels. One of his arms is moving very gently, but neither angel can see what he’s doing. Gabriel tosses a look to the side at his brother and then walks into the room. 

“Hey Deano!” Gabriel says with all the enthusiasm he can muster.

Dean looks up startled and his body jerks at the sudden noise. The boy looks at Gabriel and then back to Castiel. “Thought it was just us today?” Dean asks. There is no bite to his tone though, his voice is quiet and calm. The exact opposite of Dean’s behaviour and personality. 

Castiel replies, “Things change sometimes, baby boy. Gabriel came in to check on you.”

Dean looks Gabriel in the eye and says, “I’m fine.”

Gabriel looks at Dean with incomprehension. Castiel idly thinks that in another situation Dean would be laughing at Gabriel’s facial expression. 

Gabriel finally asks, “What are you doing here, Deano?”

Dean looks confused when he answers, “Didn’t you make this room for me? I understand if you don’t want --I can leave...” Dean makes a movement to stand up, but Gabriel pushes the man’s body back down to his earlier sitting position. 

“Dean, I want you to look at me and listen really hard,” Gabriel says. “I made this room, this entire house, for you. For you and your daddy. This is  _ your _ room.”

Dean nods, “And Castiel is daddy, right?”

Gabriel nods and adds, “Correct. And I’m Uncle Gabe.”

Dean nods again and then looks back down to the floor. Gabe asks, “What are you doing in the middle of the floor, Deano? You have plenty of toys to play with.”

Dean looks up in moderate surprise and says, “I am playing. Just quietly.” Dean pulls back and his eyes go to the floor, but this time Gabe notices that Dean has one end of his blanket laid flat in front of him. Dean begins to draw something into the blanket. 

“Watcha drawing there, pal?”

Dean says, “Nothing. But see, the blanket is fuzzy and if you move it, it has two different shades. So you can make pictures with no mess.” 

Gabriel chokes a little bit, but covers it up with a cough. Dean is so proud of himself for finding an activity that won’t upset anyone. He turns to his little brother who is hovering just inside the doorway listening to every word. There are actual tears in Castiel’s eyes. Gabriel looks away quickly to avoid shedding his own. Instead he looks down at the blanket where Dean is ‘drawing’ and his eyes finally do start tingling and watering when he sees what Dean is, perhaps unconsciously, drawing over and over again. 

Gabriel gets up and walks over to Castiel. Gabriel leads the other angel back down to the kitchen. Gabriel can’t speak at first, distracted by trying to will away his tears. When he does he looks at Castiel. The rebel angel’s arms are wrapped tightly around himself for comfort. He looks at Gabriel and asks, “Did I break him? What’s happened?” 

Gabriel clears his throat and says, “He’s certainly in the little head space, but not here with us, Castiel. He’s back with the drunk and fat Winchester, his real dad. You know what he was drawing, Cassie?” Castiel shakes his head waiting for Gabriel to answer his silent questions. “He was drawing the mark. Over and over again.”

Castiel makes a face of disgust and they both fall into silence as they think. Castiel asks, “Did you see his soul?” 

Gabriel nods and replies, “Yeah. It was dim. Small.”

Castiel nods, “It wasn’t like that when I left him in there. I mean the mark dulls it, but his soul is curling in on itself. I was only gone long enough to talk to you.”

“I think Dean is caught in a flashback sort of thing. We should just wait for him to come out of it? Like put him to sleep, maybe he’ll wake up okay?”

“But how did he snap so fast? I mean into the little head space even, that’s more than a flashback, Gabriel!”

“I don’t know, bud. Maybe Dean’s been carrying around this fear for a long time. A younger version of himself he’s been trying to bury and forget about for decades. I don’t know, I don’t think anyone can. The man is a walking textbook example of repression and trauma, for father’s sake. It’s dangerous to play with his mind like this.”

“Should we stop?” Castiel asks. 

Gabriel thinks about it, but not for long. He says confidently, “No. He needs this. Today just proves that even more. We just have to get him to snap out of this. So we can do this right.”

Castiel bites his lip in an unprecedented show of nervousness, but Gabriel doesn’t comment on it. Gabriel himself is feeling antsy and is fighting the near overwhelming urge to pace around and yell. Gabriel turns and calls Dean’s name. Dean appears at the bottom of the stairs in seconds his head up, but his eyes not landing on either angel. 

Castiel forces a smile and says, “Hello, Dean.”

Dean nods in acknowledgement but stays where he is. Gabriel sighs and says, “Go sit on the couch, Dean.” Dean moves before Gabriel is even done with his sentence. The angels follow him into the living room and stand facing him. “Dean, I have a question for you, okay bud?”

Dean nods again and Gabriel continues, “How old are you, bud?”

Dean’s brow wrinkles in confusion, “I don’t understand.”

“It’s a simple question Deano, how old are ya’?”

Dean’s head snaps to his lap and he asks, “Did I regress too far? I don’t know how old I’m supposed to be, guys. Just tell me and I’ll make it happen.” His green eyes look up expectantly and Gabriel falls back a couple of steps in shock. 

Castiel asks, “Dean? You know what’s happening?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing it’s just...I understand now, Cas. You said you needed this. Now, I have no idea if your crazy plan will work, but least I can do is give _ you  _ what you want. You’ve stayed by me through all kinds of shit and even the mark, which I know has changed me. I want my last real decision to make you happy. I mean the bath was hard, but I worked through it.” What is terrifying about the statement is that Dean delivers it in such a blase manner. As if it is an obvious logic thread. Though Dean himself knows that wasn’t the full reason. He’s trying to delay the day that Castiel leaves. Trying to stop the angels from getting tired of him.

Castiel’s skin becomes tight around him when he hears the explanation. He feels he should have seen this coming, but he never thought Dean would… He should have known. Dean does anything for family, no matter what. He’s trying to be the perfect child for Cas, because he loves him. 

Castiel rushes forward a couple steps and falls to his knees in front of Dean. The man looks confused but instinctively takes the angel’s hands when they are offered. “Dean. This is about  _ you _ . This time, you are the priority. You never allow yourself to be cared for, that’s all we’re trying to do.”

Gabriel steps forward so he next to Castiel and sits on the floor leaving all three of them in the same bubble of space. “Deano. This isn’t what Cassie or I want. We want you to be free to do whatever it is you’ve wanted to do as a child. We want you to go crazy. Hell, you should be pushing all our buttons to see how much ice cream you can get, and begging for a puppy.”

Castiel clears his throat and Dean’s attention turns back to him, “Dean, I know this is a precarious situation we’re in. The bets are high all around, but I promise to my father, that this will not be your last real choice.” Castiel looks into his love’s eyes and sees a warmth there that travels up through his own body as well. He smiles at Dean and says, “Don’t do this for me. Do it for you.”

“Why can’t I do it for both of us?” Dean asks. 

“That’d be perfect, Dean. But you’re not.”

Dean is confused now, since he’d thought he was doing a relatively good job. Sure, he was stiff in the bath, he was nervous. But overall, he hasn’t made any noise really. No messes. No fuss. “What can I do to be better?”

Gabriel’s head falls down in exasperation and disbelief, but he quickly jerks it back up to look at Dean and say very slowly, “Dean. Let go of all of your worries.”

“I understand that I’m not allowed to hunt, or know about hunting. That’s hard, but I’m trying. I’ve only been doing this for like three hours. If that.” 

“No, I mean let go of your worries about being little. We won’t hurt you in any way. No matter what.”

Dean nods but his confusion is clear. The angels exchange looks with each other and Castiel asks, “How did it feel to act young?”

Dean shrugs, “It was weird. Hard.”

Gabriel shifts and thinks of their options going forward. “What did you enjoy doing as a child?” he asks Dean. 

Dean thinks and says, “Guns. I learned a lot about guns. And fighting. That was fun. Uhm, Bobby’s place was usually pretty fun. He even let us play with some toys.”

Gabriel’s interest peaks at the mention of toys and he disappears. Dean blinks tiredly in the direction that Gabriel was sitting, but has no other response. Frankly, he doesn’t care. He’s tired and now he’s  _ really _ tired. He doesn’t like thinking about his childhood. He doesn’t like feeling nervous. And the mark is still itching and growling and pulling at nerves inside his head, trying to force the man into carnal violence. He pushes back as he always does and looks at his shaking hands. Being a child makes him feel unsafe, and that only increases how tense he is. 

Dean looks at Castiel and says, “I’m sorry.” Castiel would have replied had Gabriel not returned that moment with an arm full of old toys. 

Gabriel sits down on the carpet in the middle of the room and dumps his haul on the floor in front of him. He beckons Dean forward, and Dean complies. Stretching tired limbs and forcing his body the few feet needed. He smiles as he sees the exact toys he remembers. “Where’d you find ‘em?”

Gabriel replies with purposeful lightness, “Bobby had them locked up in his attic. They just needed a good power wash.”

Dean’s smile drops slightly at the mention of his pseudo father, remembering his death. But then he smiles, because he can imagine Bobby packing the toys away while grumbling about John, and how they’re kids, not hunters. Dean picks up the cheap bag of small green army men and dumps them on the floor. Next he spies some of his old matchbox cars and he starts stacking army men on the cars like he used to. He then grabs a small rolled up fabric tube and gleefully rolls it out on the carpet. It’s a small mat painted to look like roads and small houses. Dean starts to move his cars along the roads and with each familiar item he picks up his smile gets wider. 

Castiel watches with relief as Dean begins to unwind and smile. The angel’s heart and grace  _ hurt _ looking at Dean earlier. Dean is supposed to be full of life. He may be surly and stubborn. He may curse up a storm and rush into things with too little thought, but Dean lives like no one else Castiel has seen in his history on Earth. Dean lives hard and fast and rough, but he’s gentle and caring at the same time. But the Dean he saw even just a few minutes before, was missing that. There was no drive or spark in him anywhere. 

Castiel swallows hard and moves to join Gabriel and Dean in the middle of the room. The angel watches every smile and head shake of Dean, which allows his grace to unfold and release some of its stress. 

  
  
  



	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Gabriel continue to lull Dean into the little lifestyle. Perhaps with a little help, grace, and blood, they can all move forward.  
> Dean begins to slip into the little head space, but nothing with the older Winchester is straight forward. Will he manage it anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is out later than I wanted, but my chromebook isn't working, so I typed this whole thing up on my phone. Took me longer than I thought it would.

    Dean is nervous. _Really_ nervous. Playing with the army men, his cars and a few other random toys had felt good. Like the warmth of nostalgia and the relief of not having to be fully responsible for Sam. Bobby always helped lighten the load when they were visiting, taking on most of the responsibility of looking after his little brother. The mark hadn’t itched as much either, as he’d played with the toys and the angels.

    But now he’s sitting once again at the breakfast bar with both Gabriel and Castiel preparing him food on the opposite side as him. Gabriel looks back at him every once in awhile to check on him. Dean sends an awkward smile his way every time. The man likes the concern, perhaps a little too much, but the attention also leaves him feeling antsy.

    He can’t help but think that he had upset the angels earlier. They didn’t like what he was doing, but he didn’t fully understand why? He had been quiet and good. Hadn’t asked for anything or taken up any of their time. Dean assumes that the angels want to have a more hands on approach and he doesn’t know if he should be concerned or relieved by that. The mystery leaves him with a bubbly anxiety in his chest.

    Gabriel and Castiel turn around at the same time, instantly catching Dean’s attention. Gabriel rolls his eyes as Castiel places the bowl of mac and cheese in front of Dean with a smile of victory. Gabriel snaps and a thick plastic fork appears in the bowl as well as a cup of juice beside it.

    Dean says, “Thanks,” carefully and nervously.

    Gabriel smiles and says, “No problem, bud. There’s more where that came from, so eat as much as you want.”

    Dean has not had to ration his food in a long time now, but the instinct is still rooted deep inside him. He’s managed to ignore it for several years, but the old habits haunted him  after his time in purgatory. All his defenses came back up upon his return.

He has to leave food for Sam. He needs something on hand for his father at all times, or he’ll be punished. He has to eat fast, or he won’t get all the food offered.

Sammy never understood. He _will_ never understand. Dean suppresses qa groan of discontent, this is why he doesn’t like thinking about his childhood.

    He tentatively reaches for the fork and begins to eat the food offered to him. He does so purposefully slowly and with a watchful eye out around him. He trusts the angels, but habit is hard to break. Just eating this slow is setting off his internal alarms. He hasn’t been able to let his guard down since the fire. Always looking. Always ready. Just like his dad had taught him.

    Castiel clears his throat and says, “We don’t want to repeat your childhood experiences, Dean. We want to create new ones for you. One where you can be loud and laugh and eat your fill.”

    Dean eyes them and says, “Ok?”

    “Dean, stop trying to be what you think we want you to be.”

    Dean blinks in confusion a couple of times. Questions are whirling around his head, but he tamps them down with relative ease as he always has and he says instead, “I’ll try. I promise.” Dean didn’t mean to promise, but he wants the angels’ trust as well. Can’t stand the thought of losing that.

    Gabriel and Castiel share a glance but it’s Castiel who turns back to Dean first and speaks, “Gabriel and I have been thinking… that perhaps starting the treatment will help you to unwind. It will leave your soul vulnerable. Then falling into the ‘little’ head space will become easier.”

    Dean doesn’t like the idea of any sort of vulnerability, and the mark starts to burn red hot at the idea. He clenches his teeth to deal with the pain and just nods at them in approval. It goes against everything inside him, but he’s not running the game anymore, right? The angels are.

    Gabriel grins and claps his hands together, “Brilliant,” he exclaims. “We’ll start tomorrow!” He looks at Dean more closely now and asks, “Are you still hungry?”

    Dean looks down in surprise to see he’d been eating throughout the conversation, and the bowl now sits empty in front of him. He doesn’t even remember how it tasted. His stomach growls in both hunger and nausea and he shakes his head with a pained face at the offer of more food. Gabriel frowns but picks the bowl up and sets it in the sink. He then asks, “Would you like to keep playing with your toys?”

    Dean can see the gleam of hope in both angels’ eyes and he says, “Ok.”

    But when he reaches the toys that are still spread haphazardly across the rug, it feels dull. Not like before, when he was honestly caught up in the comfortable memories of Bobby. Now it feels like he’s acting again. He moves the pieces around half-heartedly and blinks away tears of frustration. He starts to remember his father’s annoyance when he brought some of his toys with him when the brothers were picked up from the scrapyard. How John had thrown his soldiers down the garbage disposal in one of the motel sinks when Dean forgot to pick them up. How John would buy Sam small toys and things. Sam was even given a small stuffed lamb that he slept with every night. Dean used to sneak into Sam and his rooms when John was watching tv or out on a hunt to reverently brush his hands across the soft fabric of the toy, but never dared ask for one himself. Remembers the beating he got when Sam got the one remaining soldier toy that Dean had saved, stuck in the ashtray in the back seat of the impala.

    Suddenly the toys in front of him are grey and lackluster. They remind him of pain and shame. He tries to stay calm, to please the angels, but his skin feels like it’s shrinking and his eyes burn from the reminder of past shame. John always said he wasn’t good enough for toys. It felt like a lie to play with them now.

    But Dean tries. He tries so hard. Gabriel runs his cars around the roads and pretends to crash into houses. He sets the soldiers up with Dean in a mock battle and pretends to throw entire cars at Dean’s ranks. Dean rocks slightly in place, trying to dispel the suffocating and nauseating sensations inside him. He ignores it for as long as he can, but one familiar flick of Gabriel’s head, to get his hair out of his face, reminds him too much of Sammy. Dean is off the floor and running for the kitchen in half a moment, making it to the sink just in time to throw up his meager lunch.

    When he’s done throwing up his food, he starts throwing up stomach bile. It burns his throat, and that’s the final crack in his control. His eyes overflow with tears and they’re streaming down his face, dropping down the drain with his vomit. Dean tries to choke down agonized gasps, that sound too much like sobs, but they rip their way out of him. The man’s muscles are too worn from the intense bout of vomiting to continue standing. His knees give out and he hits the floor hard. He can hear the distinct sound of his kneecaps hitting the tile, and he can feel the pressure of a cabinet handle jamming into his spine, but he doesn’t feel the pain. Not really.

    Dean falls out of control of his body _and_ emotions. He starts truly sobbing, loud and ugly and there’s a distant shame trying to creep in, but Dean’s too far gone to notice. He feels bad. Sad. Small. He feels so small. Little even.

    Dean blinks in confusion, still sobbing and rocking, when he feels arms envelope him and pull him from the floor. He can’t see clearly because of the salty tears blurring his vision, but he can feel the floor disappear from underneath him, can feel the vague sense of being lifted into the air.

    Then he smells the odd but strong and familiar scent of his angel. Castiel always smell of honey and dirt. Sometimes with a strange hint of smoky lavender. Dean feels even smaller in the arms carrying him, and in that moment he fervently, and genuinely, wishes to be a child.

    Dean can feel himself being lowered down and his body hits softness. His bed. The hands leave him there and Dean reaches out for them. He cries out in distress at the loss of the warmth and smell of his angel. He’s on the edge of panic, but the contact returns, and soothing words he can’t understand pull him back to the feeling of safety. He pushes himself into the warmth and softness of Castiel and the bed. Runs his fingers over the green comforter to help ground himself. He relishes in the small points of warm contact, that Dean knows must be chaste kisses from his angel, peppering his face and hair.

    Dean is exhausted by the time his tears run out and his face dries. His eyes are half-lidded when Castiel carefully maneuvers the man into a lying position on the bed. Dean curls into the arms offered beside him and wills his mind to stop thinking. To let him have this.

    “Baby boy,” Castiel whispers, and for the first time Dean is able to understand him now that his tears and sobs have stopped . “I’m so proud of you, my little boy. So strong, De, so brave. You can let go now. Let it out, and let daddy fix it.”

    Dean can feel a flush warm his cheeks but he can’t do anything, doesn’t _want_ to do anything, but curl further into Castiel. Into his daddy. Dean wants him to fix it. Wants the help. He stops trying to fight that desire, and he whimpers slightly into Castiel’s chest.

    Castiel brings a hand up to run through Dean’s hair, the touch soothing Dean immensely.  He says into the dark blonde tresses, “Go to sleep, baby boy. There is nothing you must do. Allow yourself to rest.” The man has never experienced support or comfort like this. Has only ever been hurt or punished for shows of emotions.

    Dean whispers into the angel’s chest, “Cas? You’ll be here when I wake up?”

    Castiel can only understand the murmur due to his heightened senses, and he smiles and pushes a kiss into Dean’s hair. He answers, “Of course, De. I’ll be here to take care of you. I’m never leaving you, baby boy.”

    The words catch in Dean’s chest, perhaps in his soul, he doesn’t know. He likes the feeling though, the solid presence. Dean watches as a glimpse of what Castiel wants floats by his subconscious. Can feel the warmth and tingle of Castiel’s grace pushing the image through his mind. It shows Dean happy and playing around with Gabriel while Castiel watches. Then he sees himself allowing Castiel to pick him up and carry him around. He sees Castiel watching the bees and laughing at Dean who is running around the meadow singing made up songs. The images and dreams playing across his eyes lull Dean into a deep calm. Dean can only feel relief and exhaustion now, but he forces himself to say, “Thank you….”. After a moment he adds, “D-da-daddy.” Dean can feel the stretch of Castiel’s lips form a grin from where the angel is still pressing kisses into his hair. Dean notes that calling Castiel daddy, wasn’t as hard as before. It was in fact...relaxing. Comforting even. Being covered in warmth and love and promises, Dean feels free and loved and...confident in himself and Castiel. He loves the feeling of being small in comparison to the angel. Small in every way. Dean allows himself to cling to that feeling as he loses consciousness, relishing the moment in Castiel’s arms.

___________________________________________________________________________________

    Dean wakes up slowly, pushing himself into the warmth and pressure beside him. He hums in contentment when Castiel’s hand starts to rub through his hair. Castiel chuckles at the small sounds of joy coming from the normally stoic and aggressive man beside him. Castiel lays a couple of kisses on Dean’s head and quietly asks, “Are you ready for the day, De? Ready to get your clothes on, baby boy?”

    Dean is startled when all he feels at the words is warmth. Wants to force himself to feel shame and alarm, but his body is still tired and stiff from the day before and he hears nothing in Castiel’s voice besides a genuine desire to help him. So Dean sighs and says, “No.”

    Castiel chuckles again and repeats, “No? Why not, baby boy?”

    “Comfy.”

    “That may be, but you need to get cleaned up. I imagine you’re very sore from yesterday.”

    Dean flushes at the reminder of how he had lost control, but just buries his face further into his angel’s chest. Saying nothing in return.

    “How do I get you out of bed, Dean? Hmm? How about pie? If you get up now to take a bath and get ready, I’ll have Uncle Gabe bring a pie with him when he comes over later.”

    Dean’s body goes still with excitement and he feels slightly betrayed by the obvious sign of interest, but any insecurities he feels disappear when Castiel laughs. Dean can’t feel bad when the sound of laughter is so easy and light sounding. Dean pokes his head out from the embrace and looks up at Castiel with narrowed eyes. “Pie?” he asks. “Apple?”

    Castiel nods his head and Dean slowly draws away from their contact, missing it as soon as he’s out of arm's reach. He stumbles to his feet and is surprised at just how sore he really is. He could feel the stiffness in his joints when laying down, but upon standing every muscle screams at him. The constant ache of the mark, and the added stiffness from a complete emotional collapse leaves him wincing with every movement as he walks down the hall and into the bathroom.

Upon arriving in the beautifully painted room, he looks at the empty tub in confusion. He glances back into the hallway, but doesn't see Castiel. Is he supposed to run himself a bath? Or is he supposed to take a shower? He feels awkward as he stares in the general direction of the shower and tub. It doesn't feel right to Dean to take a bath if Castiel isn't there, but Dean is still surprised by the disappointment that floods him at his angel’s absence. He reaches to take his shirt and pull it over his head, and he hears a door close the moment he gets the clothing over his head. When he looks up Castiel is walking down the hall with a light happy grin thrown at Dean. The angel enters the bathroom as well and goes for the tap right away. Dean manages to move his body again once he hears the sound of the water running out of the tap. He huffs out his relief and turns around as he drops his pants and underwear, hiding the little grin on his face.

“Are we ready for our morning bath, De?”

Dean turns around and nods. Castiel smiles and it looks so rafiant, that Dean's chest feels like it's imploding on itself. He's always wanted to  see the weight and suffering lifted from the angel.

Dean moves without his full notice, but he snaps back into awareness as he feels the rejuvenating warmth of the water surrounding his lower half. He sighs in relief as he feels some of the aches melt away from his muscles. He leans back into the water, bracing his back on the tub, so the only thing above the water is his head. He hasn't forgotten about his audience, and rather he syncs his breathing with his angel’s and falls further into the comfort being given to him.

After a few minutes of peaceful silence, Dean cracks his eyes open and turns his head to Castiel. The angel meets his gaze and Dean can see the trepidation in those blue eyes as clearly as he can feel it bubbling up in himself. Castiel doesn't speak, but rather waits for Dean to instigate any further communication, though his heart yearns to hear one word.

Dean knows his angel better than anyone, and he knows the gleam in those blue eyes. So he takes a deep breath and says, “Daddy?”

Castiel’s expression goes from uncertain to elated in seconds and Dean revels in how easy it was. He looks down at the water, trying to figure out if he should feel bad or relieved about how quickly he's giving into this. But his thoughts don't get far before Castiel says, “We’d best get you all cleaned up for the day, huh? Or we'll miss the pie.”

Dean pouts at Castiel before he can catch up to his body’s movements. It feels weird to do something so childish, but Castiel giggles and says, “Do not worry, Dean. You'll get your pie, because you are a good little boy.”

Dean loves the immense amount of pride he feels then, and he finds it easy to push away any doubts about it.

He hums in content when Castiel begins rubbing soap into his hair and body. He mewls in pleasure as his hair is rinsed with water and his muscles relax further into the bath.

Dean is a little disappointed when the angel announces that Dean is all clean and ready to go. But Dean gets up and lets Castiel dry and wrap him up in an impossibly soft fluffy towel. Dean gives no fight as Castiel gently pushes him forward with a gentle hand on his back. They walk back to the room where Dean crawls back into his bed. Castiel, on the other hand, moves to the closet, emerging after a minute with a small pile of clothes.

Dean glances at the clothes and pauses only for a moment before reaching out for them and quickly changing into the pair of loose sweatpants and a soft blue long sleeve shirt. Not too different from what he wears on a normal day and almost the same as the day before. Castiel smiles at Dean and says, “Come on, De, let's get you some breakfast.” Dean feels an immense amount of love and affection at the angel’s words. He nods happily and easily follows Castiel down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Dean feels light after the breakdown of last night. His eyes and body are sore, but his mind is comfortingly exhausted. Working a bit slowly but with a calm that Dean has rarely ever felt in his hunting life. So when the man sees Gabriel standing with one hip cocked, leaning on the island, and holding a pie in one hand, Dean beams in excitement. He waves at Gabriel almost shyly, and the archangel sends a wink in his direction as he says, “I heard that a certain little boy needed some apple pie? Wasn't you, was it?”

Dean can't believe himself when a small giggle bubbles up in his body, but he grins at the pleased expression the sound brings to Gabriel's face. Dean doesn't reply verbally, but nods his head and his eyes lock on the pie as he inhales deeply, loving the spicy scent of tart apples covered in cinnamon.

Castiel hums to himself as he watches Dean open up, and he says, “Well, De, pie for breakfast? Just this once, cause you've been such a brave boy.”

Dean's body goes still in unexpected shock. Being given something like this is foreign to him, but it fills his chest with bubbly air that alleviates any anxiety he feels. Gabriel snaps his fingers loudly behind him, and Dean swings around in place to look back at the past trickster. Gabriel winks once again and gestures dramatically at the plate of pie, glass of milk, and fork balanced on the side of the plate that sit on top of the island. Dean scrambles into the closest stool of the breakfast bar where his treat sits. Dean digs into the pie with a gusto he hasn't felt in years. Genuine and free joy making his hands shake and his body tremble. His relief and appreciation making him tear up. He's determined to not ruin this memory with tears, and blinks them back with determination. He loves how perfect this feels. He isn't scared or injured, or looking after anyone. He's just…. _enjoying_.

A part of him is still whispering in his mind about how this can’t be real and that it won't last, but the warmth of both angels around him helps keep the doubt at bay. And the man is more than determined to enjoy what he can. And Dean Winchester can be very tenacious.

It’s Castiel who breaks the pleasant silence that has taken over the kitchen while Dean eats his pie. He speaks as Dean finishes off his pie, “De, baby, would you like to watch a movie after pie? Or perhaps play with your toys? Play a game with us? Whatever you want, bub, you must still be very tired. ”

Dean feels the familiar anxiety overcome his calm then, and he wills himself to protest the child-like treatment, but can't make himself fully deny how much he wants it. So instead he says, “Movie.” He doesn't lift his head as he answers, but instead plays with the few crumbs left on his plate, by moving them around with one prong of his fork.

Castle smiles and says, “Alright then, baby boy, come and pick one out.”

Dean doesn't move immediately, caught in his own confusion, but he then moves off the stool and picks up his dishes, moving to the sink with them. He doesn't reach the sink, because Gabriel steps between him and the counter. Dean tries to keep going, but Gabriel is gently and effectively taking the dishes from his hands and telling him to go with Castiel.

Dean tries to protest, mind flashing back to his father, who always expected him to maintain whatever cabin or motel they were staying at that week. But Castiel is then pulling him away from the kitchen and into the living room. Castiel sits in front of the entertainment system and opens a small cabinet. It is lined with movies, mostly animated movies with a few other family friendly films.

“What do you want to watch, De?” Castiel asks.

Dean looks at all the options and says, “I don't know… I don't recognize any of these.”

Castiel smiles and if Dean had been paying attention, he would have been able to see the tightness around the expression. Castiel yearns to go back in time and give Dean everything he missed out on the first time around. Instead he says, “Well, that just means they'll all be new and exciting.”

Dean flashes an overwhelmed grin towards Castiel and begins to read through and study the titles in front of him.

Dean finally decides on a movie and reaches out to pick up the case and hand it to Castiel. “This one, please,” Dean says with his eyes on the ground. He always let Sammy pick the shows and movies on the crappie motel tvs. He feels very selfish to pick now, but there's  telltale thrum of excitement there as well.

Castiel smiles and takes the DVD from Dean and stands to place it in the DVD player. He says to Dean, “How about you sit down on the couch and get comfortable? Gabriel will be out soon with something for you to drink, and we can all watch the dragons, okay?”

Dean smiles even if his movements are stiff and unsure as he moves to the said piece of furniture. He settles into the middle and watches as the DVD menu for How to Train Your Dragon comes up. Gabriel comes into the room, just seconds after Castiel picks up the remote and sits on one side of Dean.

Gabriel's eyes sparkle when he sees his little brother and the righteous man sitting, ready for the movie. Gabriel never thought he'd see the day when the two could feel calm and together, and he thanks his father over and over again for giving the three of them this opportunity. “Nice choice, Deano!” Gabriel praises and a small grin quirks Dean's lips up, even as his face flushes red with an automatic embarrassment.

Dean doesn't say anything, and Gabriel moves forward undeterred, and falls dramatically into the spot on the other side of the human. Dean looks at the small cup in his hands and the man's eyes narrow at the sight of the blue sippy cup.

Gabriel holds it out to him and Dean takes it after a long moment of reflection. He holds it in his hands, but doesn't bring it up to his mouth to drink. He can feel his mind fighting to cement into two radically different mind sets. He wants, with not just his mind or body, but with his soul as well, to be taken care of. But every nerve in his body is wary of letting go.

Castiel throws an arm around him and says, “It's not juice, De. That's the beginning of the process.”

Dean blinks in incomprehension before his eyebrows lift as he realizes the insinuation. He asks, “You mean this is your… blood?”

Castiel replies, “Yes, De. But it won't taste like blood. It will taste like whatever your subconscious desires.”

“Wait, really? Does it always do that?”

Gabriel chuckles and says, “No, so don't try to drink any other angels’ blood. But since this blood is also laced with Cassie’s grace’s intent, and the blood is connected to you...You know what, it's complicated and human anatomy is short sighted. The whole thing is safe and it won't taste like iron, alright?”

Dean looks at the cup in his hands and shrugs in reply. He then looks up at the TV screen and says, “Watch the movie now?”

Castiel hits the play button and Dean is hooked within the first couple of minutes, his eyes glued to the screen. The angels watch the calm that takes over Dean and grin when he releases giggles at funny moments of the movie.

Dean leans further and further into the angel next to him, and Castiel eventually just pushes Dean down so he's laying his head in Castiel's lap. His feet burrow into the space between Gabriel's leg and the couch. The archangel rolls his eyes at the action, but his grin is wide as he looks at Dean snuggled up to Castiel.

Dean lifts the cup up to his lips unconsciously as the movie nears the middle and he begins sucking the liquid out at a slow pace. The two angels exchange a proud glance, but don't say anything, knowing any attention brought to it could lead to Dean closing up again.

The cup is empty by the time the credits roll and Dean’s eyelids are heavy. He holds one hand over the mark as it begins to itch and burn, but he doesn't move from his lying position between Gabriel and Castiel. Neither angel moves as Dean drifts into sleep. They begin to converse on their own wave length as Dean starts to snore slightly.

The angels feel nothing amiss in his dreams or soul. Dean is sleeping soundly and he’s being monitored by two of heaven's greatest weapons. Castiel winces as he feels a small shock to the human’s soul, but nothing follows, so Castiel sends a small spark of grace through Dean to calm his mind, and the soul shines normally again. A minute or two later, Dean screams in agony and startles forward, only to smash into both angels and fall to the floor.

Dean is silent but it's obvious that he's in pain, as every muscle tenses and his jaw and eyes are pinched shut. The angels run to Dean, holding him down as his body thrashed. Castiel rips Dean's sleeve up and gasps at the rotten looking black the mark is now glowing. They can see his veins through his fair skin, and they flow green and black.

Both angels are at a loss, their healing won't work, and they don't know how to prevent this, or stop it. Dean comes back to the present with a huge gasp of air, and his body begins to shake all over, his muscles tight and exhausted from the strain.

Dean looks at them once he has found the strength to sit up with the help of his protectors. He looks at Gabriel and then Castiel before asking, “Why are we on the floor?”

Gabriel chuckles, while throwing a bewildered face to Castiel before Dean turns to him, and says, “You had a nightmare. And we… put you on the ground cause you were flailing and going to hurt yourself. Yeah.”

Dean cocks his head just like Castiel, and Gabriel bites his tongue to not point it out, not right now at least. “I'm sorry,” Dean says, clearly embarrassed.

Castiel rubs circles into Dean's back and he refutes the apology, “Rule number three, don't apologize for things out of your control, baby.”

Dean nods, knowing that's going to be hard rule. Then his body catches up with him and his stomach turns with nausea and his head begins to pound. He whines, “Don't feel good, daddy.” Dean blinks in realization of what he just did, then blinks again in dismissal. He turns fully to Castiel beside him and repeats, “Don't feel good. Fix it, daddy.”

Castiel's face is torn between sympathy and pride. “Alright, baby boy, I'll try.” Castiel murmurs softly. “How about we take you up to your bed and we can play up there, so you can be more comfortable?”

Dean nods his head and then realizes how far he has to move to get there. His face falls as he readies himself to stand by curling his feet underneath his body, and begins to push up. He quickly stops the action when both his head and stomach make it clear that they want nothing to do with it. Castiel asks, “Do you need a little help? Want a ride up the stairs?”

Dean scowls and for the first time in Winchester history, it is nowhere near intimidating, but rather cute and cuddly. Like an angry kitten. Castiel doesn't mention this, but Gabriel has to cough and walk away a few steps to hide his laughter and amusement.

Dean finally nods, oblivious to their thoughts. Castiel kneels down and arranges Dean's body in his arms, and then stands very carefully, trying to move his precious package as little as possible, to prevent any unneeded pain.

Dean lets out a small noise of suffering, every couple steps, as Castiel carries him up to his room. Castiel yearns to press two fingers to his head, and sooth the pain from his baby, but this isn't something he can't fix. It's from the _mark_. Castiel places Dean cautiously on the bed, and pulls the blankets down so Dean can get underneath them. Dean groans as he gets arranged, but eventually finds a position that eaves him in minimal pain. When Castiel sees that Dean has stopped moving he carefully sits on the bed and begins rubbing circles into Dean’s back. A moment later, both Castiel and Dean look up at the sound of footsteps nearing the door. Gabriel peeks in, and upon seeing them both looking at him expectantly he steps into the room with a small smirk.

“How ya feelin’ Deano?” he asks. He, like Castiel, moves over to the bed, and clambers onto it carefully. Dean’s expression begins to lose some of its tension, reveling in the feeling of safety that the two individuals give him.

Dean makes a sad pouting expression as he works through the nausea. Gabriel sees Dean's distress and his own eyes grow wide and the corners of his mouth twitch downward, the archangel curses his inability to help. After a few more minutes of silence Gabriel says, “I know what’ll make you feel better, bud!” He snaps his fingers and in his hand there appears a bright coloured stuffed dragon. “A buddy! A snuggle buddy for our little Dean.”

Dean’s eyes grow large and fixated on the toy and Gabriel asks, “Do you like him?”

Dean nods almost frantically and Gabriel hands the stuffed toy over. It’s about the size of Dean’s pillow and he reaches forward cautiously and handles it like it’s made of glass. Dean smiles shakily and blinks back even more tears as he very slowly wraps his arms around it, and holds it close to his body. “It’s for me?” he asks with big eyes.

Gabriel snorts and teases, “No, Deano.” He then snaps and four other stuffed dragons, of different colours and shapes, pop up around the bed, “They’re _all_ for you.”

Dean looks around in disbelief at all the detailed dragons around him. Some look like the ones from the movie, but one is clearly of Gabriel's design. “What?” Dean gasps in complete incomprehension. His chest is tight with warmth even as his stomach fills with butterflies. “Really?”

Castiel bends over and places a couple of kisses to Dean’s tousled hair and murmurs, “Of course, De. You deserve them. Do you like them?”

Dean nods again with a disbelieving grin. He starts to ask, “Uncle Gabe, do you think you could…” He shakes his head and stops talking, his teeth biting his lower lip and his eyes turn back to the dragon in his hands.

Gabriel and Castiel exchange looks and Gabriel asks, “What, bud? Can I what?”

Dean looks up at him once again and asks, “ A-another one?”

Gabriel raises an eyebrow, “You want another friend? Sure thing, kid!” Gabriel goes to snap his fingers but Dean sits up suddenly and grabs the archangel’s hand. Dean immediately regrets the action and releases Gabriel’s fingers as his stomach roils. Gabriel snaps his fingers belatedly and a small trash can appears in front of Dean for him to throw up into it, rather than all over the bed.

When Dean finishes he looks up at Gabriel with his mouth slightly open, ready to say something. Gabriel stops him with a look and says, “No apologizing, Dean. Remember? Rule number three.” Dean flushes at the reminder and falls back into his earlier laying down position, making sure to grab one of his new dragon friends as he goes to pull the blankets up. Castiel helps him get resituated and Dean closes his eyes and focuses on the warmth all around him.

Gabriel asks, “What did you want earlier, Dean?”

Dean rolls his head to the side, just slightly, so he can see Gabriel’s full form and mumbles a word that neither angel can understand, despite their advanced senses.

“What?” Gabriel asks. “You don’t need to be afraid, just let me know. You know I can work miracles, _literally_.” Gabriel winks at Dean and shifts slightly closer to him and Castiel. Dean pushes his legs into the warmth of Gabriel’s body as well, and smiles softly in comfort.

“It’s nothing,” Dean tries to play the earlier request off.

“No. It’s only nothing because you haven’t told me yet. Once you do, it will become whatever you want.”

Dean sighs and says softly, “I, uhm, when we were kids, Sam had this...plushie. I always wanted one too.”

Gabriel smiles with a lot of teeth as he understands, “And what was his plushie?”

“A lamb.” Dean looks at Gabriel and waits for the expected scorn and pity to swarm those caramel eyes, but instead Gabriel lays a heavy hand on Dean’s leg through the blanket, and slowly brings his hand up with a wink in Dean’s direction. Dean hears the sound of the snap, even if he doesn’t see it, his vision going blurry with immense expectation and nerves. When he manages to blink them away he sees white. Fluffy white. Gabriel sets it gently on Dean’s chest and the man stares in amazement at the toy just inches from his face.

It’s a lamb. A fluffy white lamb, with a small blue ribbon tied around his neck. It has two small and shiny plastic black eyes and two large fluffy ears. Dean moves his hand painfully slowly towards the toy. His fingers brush the soft tan hoofs first and Dean sniffles. Then he’s grabbing the toy, and rubbing his face into it’s soft material. Dean freezes when he breathes in, surprised by the scent. Dean also belatedly notices that the sheep in his hands is far heavier than the dinosaurs around him. He looks up at Gabriel who just snaps his fingers and watches as Dean drops the toy in surprise. Dean picks it up soon after and feels the warmth now coming from the lamb. The scent is even stronger now and he smiles as he recognizes it. Lavender. Like Castiel sometimes smells. How Castiel’s grace smells.

Dean notices a small difference, another smell under the lavender, and thinks that perhaps it’s caramel. He looks up at Gabriel and he understands. Both of his angels will be with him. Caramel and lavender. Dean sniffles once again and lets a few small tears escape as he pets and snuggles the toy with a passion rarely seen in the man. Then he sets the lamb on his chest, the warm weight bleeding some of the pain out and away from him. He continues to look at the toy in awe and only after several minutes remembers to thank Gabriel, who waves off his thanks and says, “Anything for you, buddy. Just take good care of….it.”

“Her,” Dean says. “Her name will be Lucy.”

Alright. Dean take good care of Lucy, and Lucy,” he points a finger with a very serious expression at the plush lamb and continues, “You better take good care of my Dean, here. He’s a good boy.”

Dean giggles freely and pulls the lamb back closer to him. “She’s perfect. Even better than Sam’s.”

Castiel hums and runs his fingers through Dean’s hair to get his attention. Dean peaks his eyes out over his new friend to look at Castiel. “You deserve it, Dean. Remember that. You’re my little boy, and you deserve everything in the world. Especially happiness.”

Dean’s eyes crinkle in a smile that Castiel can’t see because of the toy but knows is there. Dean pushes his warm Lucy into Castiel’s chest. “Lucy is my friend. She can be yours too. And Uncle Gabe’s. Right?”

“Of course, little one.”

“I will take the bestest care of her. I promise.”

Gabriel is beaming with pride, for himself and Dean. The archangel is surprised by how good it feels to make the human smile, and he wants nothing more than to keep that expression on his face. He leans over and pats Lucy on the head a couple times and says, “We know you will. And we’ll take the bestest care of you.”

Dean smiles and finds it easier to forget how bad he feels, or how strange this should be. He’s enveloped by the purest sensation of calm and appreciation and acceptance. Dean wonders when this became the thing he wants most in the world. Or if he perhaps, always wanted it, and Castiel was the one who saw it, and gave it to him. He closes his eyes and gives into the sensation. He pops his thumb in his mouth and curls around Lucy and into Castiel. He closes his eyes for just a moment, to help relieve the aching of his eyes from his earlier crying. The angels smile in amusement and love as Dean immediately falls into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be more about little Dean as he officially accepts the mindset. As well as some hurt/comfort as the mark causes trouble.  
> I'm debating putting some of the bunker characters into the dynamic next chapter as well. Does that seem rushed? Thoughts? 
> 
> Also, I have a blog that deals with ptsd, depression, anxiety, chronic illness, pain, and so on. I write about what I deal with on an everyday basis, and how I get through rough patches with my mental illnesses and physical pain. Are any of you interested in visiting? If you are I'll gladly put up the URL next chapter. 
> 
> Remember, reviews help me keep writing.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drinking angel blood pushes Dean's body past his limits and he gets sicker and sicker. How can Castiel and Gabriel manage to keep Dean healthy and fight the mark at the same time? Did they jump into things too fast?   
> Dean is forced into dealing with traumatic memories, and Castiel and Gabriel are going to be there to help him through them, no matter what. But can they help the righteous man and the cracks in his soul? Can they override past abuse and Dean's blindness to his own worth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time having an account on ao3, though I've been reading for years. This series is my first publication, and it's all making me very nervous. But I wanted to say I'm happy to take requests, if anyone has any. I'm still learning the ins and outs, but want to become part of the consistent writing community. Thanks for reading! (p.s. I don't write smut. I personally love asexual fics and protective fics)

Gabriel looks at his brother and asks, “What the fuck happened?” Gabriel's eyes are wide and his breath is shaky. Castiel stands straight with a furrowed brow, his panicked emotions hidden better than the other angel. “I mean, are we killing him?”

Castiel’s stomach turns and his skin feels like it's burning at the thought. Even his wings twitch at Gabriel's words. “I don't know. Should we stop?”

The conversation sends two identical surges of deja vu through both brothers. Gabriel thinks back to when Castiel asked if they should stop the first time. He clears his throat and says, “No. I mean we knew the risks going in. Dean himself said he would rather di-…” Gabriel can't finish the sentence as Dean's delighted face crosses his thoughts. A man who saved the world, the righteous man… awed and elated at the production of one lamb toy. 

“He deserves better. He  _ deserved _ better,” Castiel whispers, as if scared that the truth to his words would spurn the world to hurt the man more.

“I'm not arguing that, li’l bro. The man saved the world by breaking his own. And more than once.” Gabriel looks past Castiel and adds, “The man is practically made of cracks by now.”

“So is it okay to push him even further? What if it's too much?”

Gabriel pauses before laying his hands on Castiel’s shoulders. He takes a deep breath and meets those blue eyes and says, “You already know the answer, Castiel.”

Castiel drops his eyes down and says, “I do. But we're talking about a Winchester. There has to be  _ another way. _ ”

“This  _ is _ the other way.”

Castiel pushes the words out of his mind but can't stop seeing Dean's agonized face and the disgusting color of rot moving away from the mark. “Why doesn't he remember it?” Castiel finds his voice to ask. 

Gabriel shrugs his shoulders and says, “I don't know.” 

Castiel’s wings flutter with a quick realization. 

“What?” Gabriel asks, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

“We know someone who may know more about the mark than us.”

“Who? Cain? Dean killed him, man. Rightly so.”

“No. Cain gave him the mark, but who led him to it? Who used the blade to bring him back?”

Gabriel raises an eyebrow and deadpans, “Crowley. Really…”

Castiel presses his lips together tightly but nods his head in confirmation. 

Gabriel sighs before pointing out, “Isn't he the one that got you hooked on monster souls? That nearly drug both boys to hell on more than one occasion?”

Castiel finds himself adopting a similar pose and expression as he had after molotov cocktailing Michael with holy fire. “No?” he tries. 

Gabriel rolls his eyes, “I don't know why I'm on this side of the argument, Cas. Thought you'd be the mama tiger.”

“I would never put Dean in danger unless I had to, you know that.”

“But…?” Gabriel waves at Castiel for him to continue. 

“ _ But…  _ I'd also do whatever to help him. Crowley has a soft spot for him. Dean even goes down to hell to help the king out when he's having trouble. Something about being a knight of hell. If Crowley were to ever help someone, it'd be Dean.”

“Even with Dean as he is? You saw him, Cassie. He's settling into the little head space.”

“And you saw him writhing on the ground.”

“Dean is no stranger to pain.”

“The pain is not what I'm worried about. The  _ mark _ is. It looked like it was rotting, and then flowing  _ back _ into Dean.”

Gabriel shuts his mouth with a click but can't refuse the other's argument. Gabriel, after a tense minute, nods his head. “Fine. We can call him.”

Castiel adds, “We'll keep him out of sight of Dean.”

Gabriel nods and walks out of the kitchen with a quick, “I'll check on our boy.” Gabriel didn't have to go far to find Dean, the boy opening the door to his room at the top of the stairs as Gabriel’s foot landed on the first step. “How you doin’, Deano? Feeling any better?” Gabriel asks. 

Dean pulls the back of his right hand across his face and blinks down at Gabriel with big glassy eyes. “What?” Dean asks. Dean's left hand then makes an appearance as his arm wraps around his stomach, and Gabriel can see the lamb he made earlier hanging by one hoof. 

“Did you and Lucy have a nice nap?” Gabriel asks again. 

Dean nods his head as he walks down the stairs slowly towards Gabriel. “We woke up. You were gone,” Dean whines. 

Gabriel chuckles and wraps his arm around Dean's waist once he reaches the archangel. Gabriel then leads him into the living room and Dean collapses into the couch. 

Gabriel crouches down in front of him and stares at Dean intently. “Now, is the pain gone yet, bud?”

Dean nods his head and just says, “I'm really tired though.”

“Why did you get up then? You can stay in bed, you don't have anything you have to do.”

Dean’s eyes are still soft from sleep and he blinks softly a few times as he maintains eye contact with his uncle. 

“Oh,” Dean breathes out. Gabriel can see the boy's muscle go lax as Dean fully absorbs that reality. “No research? No grocery shopping? Cleaning the bunker?”

Gabriel huffs out what could possibly be half a laugh before a loud sound makes both of them jump in surprise. 

“-ere the hell is he??” comes a familiar voice from outside the house. Dean's brow crumples in confusion, his mind still running slow and an unnatural tiredness weighing him down. He recognizes the voice a moment before the front door crashes open. 

Crowley’s face is red and his hair askew. His eyes lock on Dean's form and the king of hell walks toward Dean and Gabriel. The archangel stands abruptly and moves to be in between Dean and the approaching demon. Crowley looks unimpressed but does stop in front of him, though his eyes keep flicking back to Dean. 

“Alright, Miss Halo, drop the act. This was your idea in the first place wasn't it? And here I thought that you boys up in heaven had gotten everything  _ back in order _ !” Crowley growled at Gabriel.

Gabriel replies with a dark tone that makes the lights flicker in time with his words, “I can destroy you in a moment, Burberry!”

Crowley smiles back, “I'd like to see you try you feather headed imbecile!”

Castiel puts his hands up and uses his deep voice to bellow, “Enough. Let's take this somewhere else.”

Everyone pauses in remembrance of their small audience. Dean looks at all of them in turn and then his eyes land back on the king of hell. Dean grins and asks, “Cowry?”

The demon raises one eyebrow at the butchered name but responds calmly, “Yes?”

Dean jumps up from the couch, or at least that was his intention. In reality he sort of falls forward off the couch and then stumbles towards Crowley. Dean pulls the blanket from the couch with him and wraps it around himself on his way. As he reaches the demon, Dean's head falls down and he rams it into the man's shoulder. It's not a hug or embrace, more like a calf pushing against its mother. 

The king stays still in confusion, but then brings his arm up to rub small circles into Dean's back. Dean stays there for a couple of long moments before raising his head. His eyes are still glassy and his cheeks are very pink. He pulls Lucy out from under his blanket and holds her in front of Crowley saying, “I got a new friend… Cowry. Do you wanna pet her? She's very friendly.” Dean knows at some level of his mind what's happening; and if that part of him was any bigger he'd be out the door already, running from this situation. As it is though, the boy is tired and hot but cold and a little bit scared. So he pushes Lucy into Crowley’s chest and adds, “I promise.”

Crowley’s eyebrows are near his hairline and both angels are ready to jump in at any second, but are surprised when all Crowley does is take the lamb into his hands as he says, “Yes, alright, darling. Don't bust a cog.”

Dean smiles widely, and with his flushed face and large eyes, he looks exactly like a child. 

“Hate to admit it, but whichever of your angels made this, it's a nice job. Although, between you and me dear, I think she's missing something.” Crowley snaps his fingers and there's a small whiff of smoke in the air as Crowley hands the lamb back to the human. 

Dean's eyes do an intense look over of Lucy to find what he did. Dean laughs softly and grins as he shows the angels the small red demon trap embroidered into the toy’s left hind hoof. Dean hugs Lucy to him, stuffing his face into the toy to inhale the settling scents. He looks at Gabriel then and asks, “Uncle? Can you…?” Dean doesn't finish the question but rather imitates Gabriel's snap and the angel’s caramel eyes melt as he ruffles Dean's hair and says, “Of course, bud!”

Dean smiles as the toy warms in his hands and pulls Lucy back under the blanket, to hold to his stomach. 

Crowley grins sharply and reprimands the older angel, “Well, he's certainly got you wrapped around his pinky…” the demon turns away from the angels and back to Dean before they can respond. “Darling, come back over here for me, will ya’?” Dean who had been eyeing the couch, but only managed a couple steps in his journey to it, pauses and very slowly turns back around. Crowley takes the two steps to get to the boy, sparing him the energy. Crowley holds the back of his hand to Dean's forehead, noting the fever running through him, and then asks, “Arm?” Dean pokes his arm out from the blanket and Crowley pulls the sleeve up far enough to look closely at the mark. It looks darker and angrier against the human's skin than when Dean had gone to sleep. “Thanks, darling. Go sit down before you collapse.” 

Dean mumbles and slowly makes his way to the couch, and falls onto the cushions. 

“Can I speak to you outside, lads?” Crowley turns and walks out the door, the question obviously an order. The angels are too concerned about Dean to call the king out on it though, and Gabriel follows him out. Castiel first checks on Dean, who is once again asleep, before meeting them on the front steps. He closes the door behind him firmly and uses a flash of grace to make sure Dean can't hear them. 

Crowley is the first to speak as he practically yells, “You two idiots should have called me  _ before _ you pumped him full of blood!”

Gabriel quickly loses his own temper and bellows back, “Oh, ‘cause you have such a trustworthy track record? You've almost killed the man several times already!”

“Oh, stop living in the past, boy! Dean and I are family now! Who was the one who was there for him when Sam gave up on him? When the moose decided to walk away from the life?”

Castiel’s voice nearly cuts the king off, “That's only ‘cause you were the one who let him become a demon!”

“I’m the one who saved him! I, me, the king of hell brought Dean Winchester back from the dead.”

Castiel replies, “Then you disappear with him! For months, you let him be a demon!”

“Hello, king of hell?” Crowley drawls and holds his hands up in complete disbelief. He runs them through his hair and lets out a harsh breath before he continues, “I didn't make him come with me. I offered him a way to cool down. Trust me, boys, I didn't want to be at shitty by the road bars and motels for six months! What you boys don't seem to understand is that Dean was a  _ Knight  _ of  _ Hell _ ! He made his own damn decisions!”

Gabriel’s fingers come together to form a snap, but Castiel stops the action, and makes long eye contact with Crowley. The demon rolls his eyes and says, “Watch it, feathers. I'm not a pitiful Winchester, I don't want to have eye sex with you. Not here at least.”

Castiel ignores Crowley’s leer and instead asks, “What's happening to him?”

Crowley sighs and when he speaks his voice is hoarse but at a normal talking volume, “I don’t know. The mark is an anomaly, as we all know. But the thing you two have so  _ skillfully ignored _ , is that the mark is already bonded with his soul. So you guys aren't putting a buffer between his soul and the dark magic, you're competing with it.”

Both angels are silent after that decree and watch the demon pace around the small porch. Gabriel finally asks, “Can we win?”

“Can you  _ win?” _ Crowley scoffs. “You certainly win giving Dean another agonizing experience that may very well kill the squirrel.” He sighs and pushes down his panic and answers the question properly. “It’s not a question of whether _ you _ can win, but rather if  _ he _ can win. Dean’s soul is what this game is about. Even if the bond does work and Dean’s soul picks it over the mark, he will still have the mark. It will just be weakened.”

Gabriel and Castiel both nod in understanding but it’s Castiel that asks, “Can we help him? His soul is strong but it’s cracked. That’s why we wanted to go slowly with the bond in the first place.”

“Keep healing the soul. That’s all I’ve got. This is an unprecedented idea, so I’m working on theory here to keep you idiots from killing him.”

Gabriel’s expression darkens at the reminder, but all three supernatural creatures turn their attention instantly to the door as Dean slowly opens it. The boy squints at them through the sunlight and asks incredibly timidly, “There’s someone here?”

Castiel shakes his head and says, “Just us three, Dean.”

Dean shakes his head in turn and says more confidently, “No, there is someone here.”

Gabriel, Castiel, and Crowley all glance at each other for half a moment and then there’s soft sounds of feathers and the smell of smoke and Dean is standing at the door by himself. He firmly shuts the door and walks towards the living room where he can hear their voices coming from. 

“Balthazar!” Dean can hear Castiel scold. Dean walks into sight of them within a second and he sees the familiar haughty posture of the angel in question. 

“What’s the big deal, Cas? Don’t get your feathers all in a ruffle. I won’t hurt your human,” Balthasar says with a flat tone while looking at Dean who is walking towards the group. “If anything really, you should be thanking me.”

Castiel’s eyes narrow but he asks, “Why?”

“You asked me to look after the other one. The big one.”

Dean’s eyes are wide when he says, “Sammy?” He can feel his eyes itch with unshed tears and he crushes Lucy to his chest in a scared hug. “Sammy hurt?”

To everyone’s surprise it’s Crowley that reacts first as he pulls Dean into an embrace and says, “No, darling. The moose is fine. How about we go watch a movie, huh? Angels can be so boring, really, and you look knackered.”

Dean does look tired, with vivid bruises underneath his eyes and his skin a few shades too pale. Crowley lays his hand across Dean’s forehead again and confirms the still present fever. But Dean smiles softly at Crowley and the demon leads Dean to the other side of the room and helps him pick out a movie. The angels watch in apprehension and shock as the king of hell continues acting maternally. Popping a dvd into the player and wrapping Lucy and Dean up in the blanket from the couch to stop Dean’s shivering. 

Balthazar smirks, “Never thought I’d see the day.” Crowley doesn’t turn towards them, but flashes his middle finger in their general direction.

“What about Sam, Balthazar?” Castiel asks. 

“What?” the angel asks, having forgotten his reason for coming as he watches the king of hell. “Oh, right. Uh, the moose, as the demon dubbed it, is coming in this direction. He got a call from someone and packed up his stuff and left the girl and the dog behind.”

Gabriel asks, “Why? You’re sure he’s coming to the bunker?”

Balthazar shrugs, “No? But, it seems the most reasonable outcome.”

“But you don’t know why?” Castiel asks.

“Look, you asked me to watch him. I watched him! Now, the longer I stand here the worse the stench of the sad human and demon become. Good luck, brothers, you’re gonna need it.” The angel disappears and Gabriel curses in frustration. 

Crowley’s voice has both angels whirling around to find him standing directly behind them, “You guys really are doing a bang up job, aren’t you?” He chuckles mockingly and continues, “I, unlike your errand boy, have information on the moose. He is headed this way, but won’t get here for a couple more days.”

“How do you know that?”Gabriel asks. 

“Because I want to know if any demons come after the boys. So I give out a few favours here and there for any information.”

“Why’s he coming then?”

“Funeral, boys. Afraid another deranged hunter has bit the dust. The moose is probably going to stop by for a cup of tea after, or whatever it is you lot do together.”

Castiel waves his arms and states, “Whatever he’s doing, we’ll deal with it when he gets here. Right now we need to focus on Dean.”

They all walk back towards the couch and look down at a sleeping Dean. Castiel walks to the other side of the couch and leans down to gently pick Dean up. The boy wakes up slightly during the movement and he mumbles, “Daddy?” 

Castiel smiles and sets a strong kiss on Dean’s forehead. “Right here, De.” 

Dean’s eyes are twitching in exhaustion but he then asks, “Uncle and Cowry?” 

“They’re right here as well, my little lamb.” Dean giggles and scrunches his nose slightly at the name and Castiel’s smile grows exponentially at the cuteness that is his baby boy. “Go back to sleep, lamb.” 

When Castiel reaches the boy’s bed Dean is dead to the world again and sighs heavily when his body is placed on his soft bed. The angel snaps his fingers and the blankets cover Dean and Castiel leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. 

___________________________________________________________________________

On the second day of drinking Castiel’s blood, it's clear that Dean is becoming sicker and sicker, as the mark sends more and more of the poisonous colours into Dean. When Dean’s fever raises to 104 and he starts hallucinating, tensions are high.. 

Dean finishes the third cup of blood of the day, and not even an hour later, throws it all back up. Castiel and Gabriel take turns holding a bucket for him and rubbing soothing circles into his back. 

Castiel is in tears as he looks at his baby boy. Castiel’s holding the sippy cup in one hand and having an internal struggle with himself; needing Dean to drink, but wanting anything but more pain for the boy. 

Crowley walks by and sits in the chair by Dean’s bedside. He then expels himself from the meat suit and crams himself as far as he can into Dean’s body. He asks Dean mentally for permission to go fully inside, the tattoo preventing him, and the king receives a dubious note of consent. Even Dean’s thoughts are heavy and hot. Crowley sinks into every nerve and atom. He then starts looking around. Trying to find the problem. 

It’s not long before Crowley returns to his body and stands up with an edge to his eyes as he looks at the angels. 

“It’s not working,” he says out of breath. 

Castiel spits, “Of course it isn’t! Look at him!”

“No, no, it’s-” he cuts himself off and starts again, “The blood isn’t making it through his body, because the mark is destroying it before it can do what it needs to do. That’s why Dean’s getting so sick. His body is fighting itself, just like with a virus.”

“So what? We can’t do anything about it?” Castiel asks with his voice breaking several times during the sentence. 

Crowley shakes his head and says, “Did you left me finish?... You need stronger blood.”

Castiel tips his head to the side in confusion but Gabriel gasps with understanding next to Castiel. “Me!” Gabriel exclaims. 

Crowley nods with a roll of his eyes, “Yes, angel. You. You’re one of the four strongest angels to exist. If anything can beat it, you can. Or rather, your blood.”

Gabriel grabs the cup in Castiel’s hands and snaps his blood into it. He hands it back to Castiel and says, “I only put some of my blood in. Enough to fight against the mark, but it’s still mostly yours.”

“Won’t that affect the bond later?”

“I have no idea, bro! But at least it’s a way to stop killing our baby!”

There’s a tension in Gabriel’s stance that tells of his own worries, but his face also holds determination and a crushing amount of hope. Never has Castiel seen him so distraught, and Castiel can feel gratefulness lull some of the fear in his body at the thought. Gabriel is in this with him, to the end. Castiel nods and feeds the liquid to Dean slowly as the kid flashes in and out of pained consciousness. 

A few hours later and Dean is up and talking and smiling. He has a headache he can feel in his whole body and he aches like he’s had the flu for a week, but his organs have stopped burning and his skin feels cool to the touch. He preens under the attention of his three supervisors.

He soon falls asleep for the night and Crowley leaves to deal with the latest fiasco in hell. He makes Castiel and Gabriel promise to allow him back in later, and they genuinely say yes, and thank him for his help. He waves it off and disappears in a flash, trying to look like the thanks doesn’t please him. 

Castiel and Gabriel both spend their time doing quiet activities as Dean sleeps, both leaving their mental channels open to each other and often having short conversations that way. 

Castiel is mid sentence in Gabriel's mind when he feels the surge of darkness invade the glowing soul upstairs. The angel staggers at the onslaught and Gabriel is next to him immediately. “What's wrong?” he asks. Castiel doesn't answer but Dean's terrified scream has both of them sprinting up the stairs. 

Dean is tossing and turning and his body is covered in sweat as he shouts out no particular words, but the panic and terror in the tone is obvious. Castiel tries to shake the boy awake, but the results are just more screams. The angel dips into Dean’s mind and sees merely a glimpse of what’s unfolding in Dean’s head and he’s pulling back fast and desperate. He tries to wake Dean up in vain, a few more times, but the boy keeps thrashing. He reaches a hand out for Gabriel who immediately takes it though he doesn’t know why. He blinks and then he’s in a yellow rotting motel with Castiel still holding his hand. 

Castiel turns around in a circle where he stands and says, “I don’t understand. He was-”

There’s a crash to their right and Castiel is running towards it and Gabriel follows his brother. Castiel bursts through a door and finds himself in another motel room, nearly identical but blue. The screams continue and the angels burst through door after door, until finally Castiel kicks a door down and the screaming stops. Dean stands there looking at him with terrified eyes. Gabriel looks at Dean and gasps and his hands come into fists at his side. 

It’s Dean standing there, no more than ten years old and covered in bruises of all colours of the muted blue rainbow. Dean looks at them and then looks behind himself, before he plants his feet and glares, “You touch him and I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch, I promise you that.”

Castiel’s lips pull down as he looks at the younger Dean Winchester. Same words, same bowlegs, only about seventy shades more innocent. Castiel speaks softly, “Dean, it’s us. Daddy and Uncle are here to get you out of this bad dream.”

Dean looks at them, but no light of recognition lights up his eyes or expression. Dean is running away from them and into the next motel room before Castiel and Gabriel even heard the quiet desperate pleas on the other side. They follow Dean in and see John Winchester holding Sam by one arm and dragging him across the room. Dean doesn’t stop running and shouts, “It was me!” 

John Winchester looks over at his son and there’s nothing but self hatred and bitterness in the man’s soul. He growls, “What, boy?”

The older brother widens his stance and says again, “It was me. Not Sam. You know Sammy’s too smart to do that. It was me.”

John lets go of Sam’s arm and Dean gestures rapidly for him to run, and the younger brother runs out the door. Castiel can see the way Dean’s shoulders drop in relief, but his body tenses in all new ways when John faces him directly on. “You always were an idiot, Dean.”

“I know, sir.”

“Shut the hell up!”

Dean hangs his head and looks down at his feet. Gabriel lets out a small whine of distress when he notices that Dean is standing in perfect military style. John brings a hand up and slaps Dean across the face hard enough to send him sprawling across the floor. Dean gets up and returns to his stance with his eyes on the ground, with a new bruise forming across his face. John stalks up towards him, “You useless piece of shit. Do you know how much money the impala is worth? How much a new paint job is going to cost? You’d best hit town and get me that money, boy.”

Dean asks, “How?”

John advances on him and slams Dean’s head into the bed frame next to them. He then shoves the boy’s upper half, chest down, across the bed, and grinds into his backside. “Do what you’re good at, Dean. Find some other man and be a bitch for him too, why don’t you? I’ve got you trained up good for that.”

Gabriel growls and launches himself at John. He knocks the larger man aside and Dean scampers out the next door. Gabriel curses as he steps over a struggling John to keep up with Castiel who has run into the next room after Dean. 

Dean stops suddenly and he looks around himself in confusion. There’s no Sam in sight. Castiel rushes up to him and grabs his arm. “Dean! You’re asleep, baby!” Dean shoves him off and looks at him in confusion. Dean’s head turns as the motel door opens and in comes John Winchester again, this time smelling so strongly of alcohol, all three of them can smell it from the door. 

John roars at Dean, “Where’s Sammy? I got him something.”

Dean freezes in place as he remembers what memory is replaying here, and stutters, “I-I l-lost him.”

“What?” 

“He ran off.” 

Castiel steps between Dean and his father, and looks at Dean. “You get Sammy back. He’s at an amusement park. Dean, this has already happened.”

Dean scoffs and says, “Who the hell are you?”

Gabriel joins Castiel in blocking Dean’s view of his father. “He’s your future boyfriend, bucko.”

“And who are you?”

Gabriel winks and says, “I’m a future pain in your ass, Deano!”

Dean cracks a small grin, but it quickly falls and his brows furrow. “Sammy?” Dean asks with a look so full of concern that Castiel feels tears build up in his eyes. Never has Castiel seen such pure devotion to another. Dean loved and loves with his entire soul. Sammy was the first true recipient of that love. 

Castiel tells Dean, “Sammy is in Flagstaff. He comes back to you. He’s fine, don’t worry. You’re asleep, Dean.”

“But why’d he leave? Why’d he leave me, he must know…” Dean cuts himself off and he slumps to the floor. “But he’s okay?”

Gabriel rubs his hand over Dean’s small back and says, “Yes. Sam is perfectly safe right now, he’s eating pizza and petting a stray dog.”

Dean wipes away the tears that fall down his face, “A dog, really? He does love dogs.”

Castiel reaches for Dean’s cheek, but the child winces so heavily he falls over Gabriel’s leg and slams to the floor on his back. Castiel is instantly next to him and apologizing in a soft tone, but Dean’s eyes are vacant. He slowly shimmers and fades from view. Castiel looks up at Gabriel in confusion. 

Gabriel asks, “Is he awake?”

Castiel shakes his head, “No, then this would all go away.” 

“This wasn’t the first time, you know,” Dean says from behind them. They stand up hurriedly and look at Dean, now in the form they are familiar with. “How many things I did for him. I went hungry most nights, so Sam could eat his fill. Hell, maybe that’s why he got so tall.” Dean smiles down at them, but it’s a sad expression. One of a man who knows strength, but found it in the worst way. 

Dean sighs and the surrounding scene dissolves around them. Where one wall sat, now shows a large screen. Images and videos flitting by, All of them showing abuse and rape and hunger and fear, revealing the true depth of Dean’s pain and how horrendous his childhood was. Dean watches them fly by with a calm look. 

Castiel reaches a hand out for Dean’s shoulder, he does so slowly, not wanting to startle the man again. Dean allows it and he speaks again, “Flagstaff. God, I was hospitalized twice during those three weeks. Dad was so mad. But that wasn’t the worst part. That was the worry. The  _ guilt _ . I didn’t know where he was and I panicked.”

“You didn’t deserve that, Dean,” Gabriel says. There’s a darkness hiding in those amber eyes as he watches the evidence of Dean’s life go by in front of him. The seriousness looks strange on him, making the situation all the more surreal. 

“It was a good memory for him, did you know that? We went to heaven and...all his favourite memories were times he managed to get free from me.” Dean lets out a small sob at that sentence. He covers his face with his hand and breathes calmly for a few moments. 

Once he lowers his hand Castiel murmurs, “It wasn’t you he was running from, Dean.”

“Maybe. Coulda fooled me, I’ll tell ya’.” Dean shakes his head and sucks in a breath as if to brace himself. “Guess I shoulda seen him running this last time, before it hit me like a semi again. All that time in purgatory, my thoughts were on him. I prayed to every known entity. I mourned him in a manner. But he always did want the house and the girl. A normal life. Damn, I should have seen it coming.” Castiel hates how familiar the self-deprecating tone sounds in Dean’s voice. 

Castiel remembers those fervent prayers. Remembers the haunted way Dean would look at the gray purgatory sky that no longer held stars. Dean never talked about it in purgatory or out. But, they both knew that Dean has always felt his own life was for his brother’s. That Dean’s entire character was based upon family. It’s a desperate philosophy, and it hurts to look at the man who’s basing everything off of family, even when his family is always betraying him. Putting him second.

“I once...I once. One time, when Sammy was 12, there was this kid at school...his name was Ross. The kid wouldn’t leave my brother alone. So, I punched him down. Beat him into submission. I came outta that fight with blood on my face and knuckles and a cracked tooth. But the look Sammy gave me, the awe and respect…it made it all worth it. Every punch through the years, every dollar I made on the streets to keep food on the table, taking all punishments to save him from the bruises and memories.”

Gabriel’s face is crumpled in upon itself and Castiel’s not doing much better. Dean looks at them and smiles that bittersweet smile at them and apologizes. “I didn’t mean to drag you into the mess that’s my past. You smart enough to run yet?” Dean’s mouth is slack, like he doesn’t have the energy to emote anymore. It’s all drowned out by the screen and what he’s reliving. Dean’s eyes can’t move away from his memories. He’s stuck where he is, watching everything bury him, and his pupils dull from the reflected light of the screen. 

Castiel reaches forward and pulls Dean into a hug, forcing the man to look away. Castiel whispers into his ear, “You are my everything, Dean Winchester. Scars, snark, and all. You’re ‘it’ for me, baby.” Castiel leans back to catch Dean’s eyes and smiles lightly when he finds them sparkling with tears. “Dean Winchester, the righteous man, and the man with the purest soul. I loved you the moment I touched that soul. Because despite all your scars and trauma, you shine and keep going. That no matter the pain and despair, your soul remains warm. You’re earth’s one true miracle.”

Gabriel steps up and Castiel steps back to let the smaller angel wrap his arms around Dean as well. The man’s arms go around Gabriel and clutches at the the back of his shirt, reveling in the feeling of family. Gabriel pulls back and says, “Deano! I can’t say I envy you, for many reasons. But these things that have changed you, are what made you into the man you are now, the amazing man you are now. I mean, I’ve watched earth for millennia, and I gotta say, bud, you were worth the wait. I didn’t know a family is what I wanted, no...needed until I met you, and I found it, with you. I can’t thank you enough.” Gabriel stands on his tiptoes and Dean squats slightly so the archangel can plant a firm kiss on Dean’s forehead. Gabriel then whispers, “I love you, bud.” 

Dean draws back and it’s clear that he’s shaken. The screen in front of them has started to flash images of happy memories. Of times with Charlie and Kevin, the outings with Crowley, and the misadventures with the angels. Benny smiles at him from the screen and Garth throws himself into his arms for a hug. Dean’s eyes track memories of laughter and jokes. Of hope and victory.

Dean’s eyes are wide as he watches and something clicks for him. Somewhere, in a place rarely ventured, a light turns on and Dean can see how he’s changed. But despite what his mind is always whispering to him, Dean is still kind and strong. He is smart and hopeful. Hunting hasn’t destroyed him, just changed a few details. His life _ is _ worth something, to himself  _ and _ to other people. A true joy bubbles up inside him and sends tingles down his nerves. And for the first time, that joy and relief washes over him and buries his scars and his trauma. In this moment he feels a small inkling of pride for something other than his skills with weapons. Dean closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, focusing on the calm that’s come over him. Because Dean, for once in his life, feels deserving. 

Dean’s eyes open and the screen is gone, the angels are gone, and Dean can feel himself let go of a dark knot that was previously tangled in his being. He feels some of the pent up anger and self-hatred burn away. He thanks his angels for giving him this. Dean thinks of his life and smiles to himself, all he ever needed or needs, is a family. Dean can picture them all together: Cas, Gabe, Benny, Jody, Jo, Bobby, Ellen, Ash, Charlie, Kevin, Crowley…. He can see them all in the bunker with him, smiling and laughing at each other. A warmth spreads through his veins upon the image and he closes his eyes to savor it. He blends into the warmth and the blankness around him until he falls into silent restful sleep. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Dean wakes up and stretches out on his bed, gleefully picking dragons up and snuggling them all to his chest. Castiel and Gabriel are sitting on the floor a few feet from the bed. Dean belatedly notices and peeks over his mountain of stuffed dragons at them. Dean remembers what happened, but in his current mind set, it’s all a bit jumbled. He remembers the emotions behind it, if not the words or details. 

When he looks at them, he feels happy and safe. He feels better than ever before. 

“Daddy!” he says happily and then hunkers down behind the dragons and out of sight. 

“What was that? Did you hear that Gabriel?” Castiel asks. 

Gabriel plays along and says, “I did. I think it might have been a dragon.”

Dean giggles and peeks back out and both angels pretend they can’t see him. Dean continues giggling to himself as he grabs one dragon and tosses it at them. He bends down and gets out of sight again and he laughs at the sounds of mock disdain. 

“I told you it was a dragon,” Gabriel says. 

Castiel smiles and looks at the small mop of hair that he knows to be Dean, half covered by blankets and half covered by dragons. A happiness that he’d been waiting a long time for blooming in his chest. He looks at Gabriel and can see a similar expression on his face. 

Castiel looks at Gabriel with a rare sly face and says, “You know what I heard about dragons?”

Gabriel grins ear to ear and asks, “No, what?”

“I heard, shhh, it’s a secret, okay? I heard that dragons love gold. And treasure!”

“Hmmm, well I know where all my gold is stashed.”

Dean is watching them now, his eyes visible through a crack in between two plushies. Castiel smothers the smile wanting to erupt and looks at Gabriel completely serious. “Where? Don’t talk too loudly or the dragons will steal all your treasures.”

Gabriel leans over and stage whispers, “You have to promise not to tell, bro.”

“Agreed.”

“I keep my treasure in the least expected spot. I keep it in the bathtub, because dragons don’t like water,” Gabriel stage whispers. 

Castiel nods knowingly, “That’s quite smart, Gabriel.”

The mound atop of Dean shakes and quakes for a moment. Dean launches up and throws all his dragons at them yelling, “Yahtzeeee” as he races out the door and to the bathroom. The angels laugh and follow suit only to find a frozen Dean in the doorway staring at the bathtub with his mouth agape. 

Gabriel smirks and says, “What’d ya’ find, Deano?”

Dean points and stammers, “T-t-treasure-ure.” Inside the bathtub lies a large pile of bath toys. There are ships and markers and ducks and dragons and anything a little boy  may want. 

“Where would you prefer to start, baby boy?” Castiel asks.

Dean’s mouth opens and closes a few times as he tries to answer the question. When he looks back at the angels, there are a few stray tear marks down his face but he’s sporting a huge smile. “Where do  _ you  _ want to start?” Dean asks with a slight wobble in his voice. 

Castiel smiles, “How about we just start with the markers? Then you can pick anything you want to play with.”

Dean nods so hard he makes himself dizzy and stumbles in place. Gabriel snaps his fingers and the tub is empty again and in Dean’s hand are three markers. Dean squeals and goes to turn on the bath water himself, but struggles to do that and hold the markers at the same time. Castiel gently pushes him aside and sets the water at what he knows is the perfect temperature for Dean. 

Gabriel convinces Dean to hand him the markers long enough for the boy to strip for the bath. Then Dean is climbing over the side of the large tub, even though it’s only partially filled. Castiel opens his mouth to chastise the boy, but can’t find it in him to do so, as Dean turns his delighted face to him. “I’m gonna draw a castle,” Dean exclaims. 

Castiel and Gabriel spend the next half an hour in the bathroom with Dean. The boy draws what he claims to be a castle, though it looks more like a bunch of randomly placed boxes, and all three of them play with different plastic dragon toys. Dean giggles at every joke and makes names for every dragon. He laughs until the water cools and starts shivering where he sits. He doesn’t say anything, content to keep playing. Castiel notices the chills of the child though, and Dean is told to get out of the tub. 

Dean pouts and says, “But, I don’t want to.”

Castiel eyes the boy and can see goosebumps on his exposed skin and says, “Daddy said to get out. But, daddy also has an idea. Do you want to know what that idea is, De?”

Dean looks torn, but after some rapid consideration he stands up and steps out of the bathtub. Castiel grabs a towel and dries him off. Dean then looks expectantly at Castiel. “Your idea?” Dean asks. 

Castiel hums in acknowledgement of the question and steers Dean out of the bathroom and down the hall to his own room. Dean sits on the bed like normal as Gabriel goes to get him some clothes. 

“How do you feel about seeing your friends, De?” Castiel asks. 

Dean looks up with excitement. “My friends?” 

“Charlie and Kevin have been asking about you, baby boy.”

Dean smiles and looks down at his lap shyly and only looks up when Gabriel sets an outfit down on the bed next to the boy. “Really? They wanna see me?”

Castiel’s eyebrow twitches in concern before he replies, “Of course they do, lamb. They’re your family, and they miss you!”

Dean’s smile gets a little wider and he nods. “Can I bring Lucy? She wants to meet them too.”

Castiel nods with an affirmative hum and Dean looks at Gabriel. “You gonna come too, Da?” 

Gabriel, as well as Castiel, look at him in surprise. Dean said the word with ease and he doesn’t look even remotely surprised or remorseful about it. 

“You asking me, bud?” Gabriel asks with a tentative hope. 

Dean nods and looks at him in slight fear. “Is that okay? I’m sorry.” 

Gabriel rushes to comfort him and spits out, “Don’t be sorry.”

Dean flinches at the tone and looks back down at his lap. Castiel shoots a burning glare towards Gabriel, who rolls his eyes at his brother, because both know neither of them intend to hurt the human. The archangel approaches the boy and sits down next to him. “I didn’t mean to sound harsh, Dean. I just don’t want you saying sorry, unless you need to. I would love for you to call me Da, Deano. As long as you’re happy with that. That’s all I want. To make sure you’re happy and safe.” 

Dean relaxes under Gabriel’s words and leans into side. Dean nods but says nothing. Gabriel pokes the boy in the side and Dean jumps up with a short gasp of betrayal. Gabriel looks him dead in the eye and says, “If you don’t get your clothes on soon, Dean, the tickle monster will come for you.”

Dean’s eyes widen and he quickly clothes himself before running out of the room and down the stairs. The angels watch him in amusement and a second after he disappears from sight they can hear him yell, “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!”

Gabriel smiles but it dims as he turns to his younger brother, “Is that okay with you, Cassie?”

“Breakfast? Of course, Dean is right, it is important,” Castiel trails off in confusion. 

“No, you know...you know Dean calling me Da. I don’t want to overstep and infringe on your territory, bro.”

Gabriel isn’t sure what the wide eyed, nearly blank expression he receives means. But he only has to wait in suspense for a short moment. “Gabriel. You’ve always been a part of this. Helping Dean. The bond. It’s no surprise that Dean sees you this way. I’m happy about the change, because it shows you the truth about how important you are to him. This wouldn’t work without you, brother. You have to know that.”

Gabriel swallows hard and nods his head at the words, “Thanks, Castiel. What I know, is that you’re going to have to use holy fire to keep me away from you two.”

“Good thing I, nor Dean, want you ‘kept away’.” Castiel watches Gabriel scuff his foot on the ground and understands that his brother is not used to such kind words. Is at a loss for what to do upon receiving them. “Come on, brother. Dean is right. Let’s go make sure he doesn’t miss the most important meal of the day. We don’t want him to crash when we take him to the bunker later.” 

Gabriel looks up at the other angel and smiles, knowing what his brother is doing. He doesn’t know how he lived what he felt was a joyful and spontaneous life before Castiel and Dean. He never wants to go back to his earlier ways. Nothing’s better than eating candy with friends. Nothing’s better than filling a tub full of toys rather than alligators or ufo’s. Gabriel descends the stairs with a happy grin teasing the corners of his mouth and he thanks Chuck for his family. Thanks Castiel as well for defending and protecting the Winchesters before he himself understood their value.

His mind then turns to what kind of breakfast he’s going to whip up for Dean and the boy’s voracious appetite. He feels like spoiling the kid this morning. Well, every morning, but  _ especially _ today.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurray! Dean is making steps towards happiness!  
> Next chapter Dean will see Charlie and Kevin, and Sam will drop in. No one is sure what to expect from the younger brother. 
> 
> I'm thinking of starting another series/story. This one would be Destiel and Sabriel. It would be AU (everybody human), and about two different enemy/rival intelligence/underground organizations. The brothers leading one, and the leviathans leading the other. All the Winchesters want is their freedom, and they'll fight with their lives to make sure the members under their command have a free future.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets to reunite with Charlie and Kevin in the bunker. Will Charlie and Kevin be able to adjust to the 'new' and 'little' Dean? Will Dean be able to maintain his little mind set? And when exactly is Sam getting to the bunker?

After breakfast, which consisted of chocolate chip pancakes, whipped cream, and bacon, Gabriel and Castiel decide it best to send Gabriel to the bunker first. So Castiel distracts Dean while Gabriel exits their pocket of existence and walks through the bunker halls looking for its two inhabitants. 

Charlie is easy to find, she’s in the library corner that she’s claimed for her hunting tech. Gabriel doesn’t pretend to understand what’s going on with her seemingly endless amount of databases and servers and every other thing she could possibly have. Even he doesn’t dare touch any part of it. Any prank he can think of is not worth the potential ramifications. 

Charlie looks up at him as he enters the library and grins. Gabriel waves at her with a smile and Charlie looks back at her monitor, holding up one finger to Gabriel as she types for a long moment, eyes glued to the screen in front of her. Then she jumps up from her seat and hurries through her chaotic corner and over to Gabriel. She meets the archangel half way and hurls herself into his arms with so much force that the only reason Gabriel is left standing is because of his superior divine strength. 

“I haven’t seen you in  _ ages,  _ Gabe!” Charlie squeals. 

Gabriel rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face is genuine as he replies, “It’s really not been that long.” Though when Gabriel thinks about everything that has happened, it does feel like far more time has passed than a mere week.

“Semantics,” Charlie waves his words off. “Whatcha need back here, on planet Earth?”

“Dean wants to come visit.”

Charlie squeals again and jumps on her toes where she stands. “No way! I’ve missed him! No more grand breakfasts, with the both of  you gone, either.”

Gabriel smirks in remembrance of just minutes ago and the smile on Dean’s face. “Gotta warn you though. He’s very little. No talk about hunting or swearing or alcohol. Don’t mock him at all. Don’t move suddenly or make loud noises. No mentions of Sam. And keep in mind that he’s feeling a bit off, he’s burning a low fever at all times and he’s extremely tired, even if he seems all kinds of energy at the moment.” 

Charlie’s brows furrow and she asks with obvious concern, “Is he alright?”

Gabriel nods and says, “If you could find Kevin? Tell him the same, we can meet you in the living room?” The living room being an area off to the side of the main room that they’ve filled with chairs and carpets and couches and tvs and game consoles. 

Charlie nods and smiles again, “Of course! Tell Dean I’m happy to see him!”

Gabriel nods at her with a small knowing grin teasing his own lips and heads back to the house. When he walks back through into the home, he can hear Dean before he can see him. Dean is singing, and his voice is mature yet childlike as it moves through the words of Hey Jude. Gabriel walks a little farther and finds Castiel and Dean leant over on the floor, their attention on a book that’s spread open. He walks up quietly not wanting to interrupt the intimate atmosphere. 

Castiel listens with both sadness and joy as Dean points to all the pictures of his baby brother, back when they were both very young. Dean can’t be more than 8 in any of the photos. Dean sings as he looks through them, fingers light as they try to touch the moments captured in the album. Sometimes he’ll stop singing to tell a story about a particularly good memory. Castiel listens to every word his baby boy utters. Wishing, vainly as always, that Dean’s life could have been different. Easier. Happier. 

Castiel looks up, when his older brother stops just behind the both of them. Gabriel peers down at the photo album as well with an eager intensity, his eyes widen slightly once he sees what the two of them are so engrossed in. 

Dean stops singing and points to a picture of Sam, around the age of 5. The young boy in the picture has a wide smile with deep dimples and shining eyes. He’s holding up a certificate, though the words are too small and blurred to read. Dean says, “Sammy was so proud here. He got a certificate of honor or whatever from his kindergarten teacher, for being a good team leader. I picked him up from school and the whole walk home, he had that grin on his face. Dad didn’t care of of course, but I made sure it was hung up somewhere in the motels. Brought it with us for a couple months.” Dean swallows but there’s a smile on his face telling of his pride. “I let him eat all the cereal for the next week to show him how proud I was.” 

Dean looks at Castiel and the angel smiles back at Dean, leaning forward to put a slow gentle kiss on the boy’s forehead. “I’m sure he loved being able to make you proud, De.”

Dean grins and notices Gabriel’s figure. The boy looks up and into the face of the archangel and says, “Where you been, Da?”

Gabriel moves down into a squat next to his brother and Dean, ruffling Dean’s hair as he moves. “I was just making sure Charlie and Kevin were both home. They want to see you, Deano!”

Dean grins and his eyes fall down towards the floor. “Really?” he asks quietly. 

Castiel places a hand on his back and says, “Of course, Dean. They’re your family, they miss you!” 

Dean giggles, “I miss them too…” 

Castiel smiles and pulls the boy in for a side hug and whispers, “So what are you waiting for, De? Let’s go see them!” 

Dean clambers quickly to his feet and Castiel follows suit; Dean’s hand slides into his softly and instinctively. Castiel leads them to the door that leads into the bunker and opens it. Both angels watch as Dean hesitates for a fraction of a moment, before stepping through and making his way through the hall, leading to the open central area. 

His steps slow down as the turn comes up, and Castiel looks over at him in concern. “What’s wrong, Dean?” he asks.

Dean shrugs and mumbles, “What if they’re gone? What if they left?”

Castiel frowns and stops Dean’s movements and turns the boy to face him, “Why would they do that, De?”

“Everybody leaves, Daddy.”

Castiel’s frown deepens, but he clears his throat and adopts a more neutral, but genuine expression as he speaks to Dean, “No. Not everybody. Family don’t give up on family, right? The Winchester way. There are two Winchesters waiting right over there, waiting for  _ you _ !” 

Dean looks into Castiel’s blue eyes, but finds no shadow of deception. Dean figures that Daddy knows best and when Castiel turns to keep walking again, Dean falls into step beside him with ease and comfort, if not a bit wary. 

The moment Dean is around the corner, Charlie is talking, “Dean! Hey! Haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?” 

Dean looks at her in surprise before a grin starts to creep across his face. “Hello, Charlie,” Dean says. Charlie walks forward and pulls him into a hard hug, and his face burrows into her neck as he sighs in satisfaction. “I missed you,” he says into her skin. 

Charlie pulls back to look him in the eye, a little taken aback by the openness of his expression and eyes. “Good thing,” Charlie says, “Because I missed you  _ more. _ ” 

Dean giggles and his grin turns into a full smile. “Nu uh.”

“Yeah huh,” Charlie replies. 

Dean looks to the woman’s side and sees Kevin standing there as well. “Hello?” Dean asks, with obvious trepidation. 

Kevin smiles and Dean can practically feel the warmth of it from where he stands. Dean smiles in turn and envelopes Kevin in a hug as well. Kevin rubs his hands over the boy’s back and Dean’s chest starts to fill with a warmth he hasn’t felt in a while. The warmth of family. Dean’s been surrounded with the love of the angels, but he knows they’re not his entire family. 

Kevin teases, “Hey, Dean. What kind of trouble you been in?”

Castiel speaks up, “Using puppy eyes on Gabriel here, for starters.” 

The two inhabitants of the bunker and the archangel laugh at that and Dean looks around at them in awe. Smiling at the warmth and strength of the atmosphere. His heartbeat slows down and his body shakes off the nervousness he has. He looks at Charlie and Kevin and says, “You wanna play with me?”

Charlie nods emphatically; Kevin also nods though with slightly less enthusiasm. Gabriel looks down at Dean and asks, “What do you wanna play with, bud?”

Dean’s face turns serious as he focuses his thoughts on what would be best. Castiel smiles at the familiar expression. It would seem that young Dean, just like older Dean, puts their entire mind and strength into everything. No half way for the Winchester. 

He eventually looks at Charlie and asks, “What’s your favourite toy? Or thing to do? We should do what  _ you  _ want to do, yeah?” 

Charlie huffs out a breath at the question. So unlike the Dean she knows, and yet exactly the same. Always putting others’ needs first. Making sure Charlie is happy before even considering thinking about himself. Charlie blinks down at him and comes out of her ruminations. She clears her throat and says, “Uh...blocks? Do you like blocks, Dean? We could make a castle.”

Dean nods and his fingers pull at his lip as he thinks for a moment. Gabriel snaps and multicoloured blocks of all kinds of shapes appear on the rug behind them. Dean’s eyes light up and he looks at Charlie, “We can build Oz. Cause you like Oz, right?”

Charlie looks at Dean and feels an almost suffocating amount of affection for the man she sees as her older brother. “Sure thing, Dean!” Charlie manages. Dean then takes her hand and leads her to the blocks. He then looks around in confusion before he sees Kevin still standing where he was before. Dean huffs and returns for Kevin, grabbing his hand as well, and dragging him over to the blocks. Dean then looks at them both in satisfaction before flopping to the ground with them. 

Charlie begins to describe what the castle in Oz looks like, or rather the Emerald City. Dean is watching her with fascination and awe. He hangs on every word she says and gasps in surprise and laughs in joy during her animated stories. Kevin watches Dean’s body. The prophet is struggling to coalesce the posture of this Dean with the older Dean. He’s never seen the man so relaxed. So free with smiles and affection. But he can also see all the other aspects of the older Winchester, like his full laugh and the crinkles around his eyes when he smiles. Kevin’s heart stops every time Dean lays a hand on his leg or hand. He watches in amazement as Dean assists Charlie in their endeavour to recreate Oz. Desperate to do the best he can for the redhead, he constantly asks if he’s doing it right.

Kevin isn’t prepared for Dean’s attention, much later, as the warrior turns his green and soft gaze towards him. “What about you, Kevin? Do you have any stories? From the rocks or books?”

Kevin stutters, “I m-mean yeah-ah…”

Dean looks at him expectantly but his smile dims when Kevin looks stricken. “Do you not like the rocks? You don’t have to talk about the rocks. Let’s talk about something else.” 

Kevin smiles at Dean, and for the first time that day, it comes easily to him. This Dean is so careless and caring at the same time, it’s impossible not to give into it. Kevin thanks Dean mentally but just says, “What do you want to talk about?”

Dean hums and then his eyes open large and he whispers, “Dragons.” 

Dean’s expression is reverent and Kevin chuckles, “Dragons, huh?”

“Yeah. Dragons! You know, like Toothless in the movie. The good movie with the dragons. What kind of dragon do you think you would have?”

Kevin raises one eyebrow in confusion but goes with it, “Well, I think my dragon would be  _ huge _ . Bigger than this  _ whole _ bunker.”

Dean looks at Kevin’s arms gesturing to all around him and he asks with genuine wonderment, “Can dragons get that big?”

Charlie smirks and says, “Oh, yeah. Remember,  _ I’m _ the Queen of Moondor. We have dragons that size and they all have different powers.” 

“Wow!” Dean exclaims. “What would your dragon be like, Charlie?” 

Gabriel and Castiel retreat to the kitchen to give the three others some space. Castiel leans back on the edge of a counter and Gabriel hops up to sit on one across from his brother. Castiel looks up at his older brother and asks, “Are you tired?”

Gabriel shrugs his shoulders and replies, “In some ways yes, in others no.”

“I find myself tired. But also… weirdly energized. It takes a lot to keep up with Dean, even as an adult.”

Gabriel snorts in amusement and uses his grace to conjure up a lollipop that he then puts in his mouth. “Yeah. You’ve caught yourself an unusual human, bro.”

Castiel smiles and his eyes go soft in a way that didn’t exist until Dean Winchester. “Yeah.” 

Gabriel wants to roll his eyes and mock Castiel but can’t find the energy too. He watches the calm and love soften Castiel’s features and he hums absently in his thoughts. A part of him is nervous. Nervous for the bonding process to end. For him to become unneeded. Or worse, become unwanted. Gabriel can’t encroach on what Dean and Castiel have, but he doesn’t want what the three of them have to disappear either. 

The archangel scoffs internally and berates himself for thinking such human thoughts. He refocuses his eyes on Castiel and says, “I think it’s about time we make up a lunch of some sorts for the kids.”

Castiel smiles at the inclusion of Charlie and Kevin to the family and replies, “Humans do need frequent meals.”

Gabriel scoffs at the obvious statement but doesn’t say anything to tease Castiel. “What do the others like, do you remember?” 

Castiel shakes his head and walks out to the living room and back to the three humans. Castiel asks, “What would you all like for lunch?”

Dean looks at Charlie and Kevin expectantly, keeping his own lips pressed together. Castiel’s eyes crinkle a little as he sees Dean’s restraint. Charlie says, “Tacos!” Kevin looks over at her in amusement but is nodding his head in approval.

Castiel nods his head and returns back to the kitchen where his older brother is already snapping all the ingredients needed into existence. He then throws some ground beef on the stove to brown, and hands tomatoes, lettuce, and avocado to Castiel. “Can I trust you to cut these up, Cassie? Or do I need to go recruit someone else?” Gabriel asks. 

Castiel scowls and takes the food from him. He finds a knife, and is proud of himself for remembering to grab one of the flat plastic boards, that Dean always puts underneath when he cuts up food. Gabriel and Castiel work in silence for a while. Gabriel warms the tortillas and blends herbs and peppers and tomatoes together to make a salsa, followed by some guacamole. The angels work for nearly an hour before Gabriel sends Castiel to set the table. The archangel then brings out all the prepared food and calls out, “Food is ready!” 

Dean runs into the room, and Charlie and Kevin wander through after Dean at a more sedate pace. They all sit down, Dean insisting that Charlie and Kevin sit on either side of him. Castiel and Gabriel sit across from the boy and Dean beams at them. Castiel grabs a tortilla and puts it on his plate and asks Dean, “What would you like on your taco, De?” 

Dean scans the ingredients and lists out his preferences with excitement. Everyone has their own tacos constructed by the time Castiel finishes. Dean bites into his taco and looks at the cup in front of him. It’s a glass. Gabriel’s eyebrows furrow at the sight and Dean looks up at the angels in confusion. The glass is large and stands empty. Gabriel says, “Oh yeah. What are your drink preferences guys?” Charlie and Kevin answer him and Gabriel snaps their glasses full. Gabriel then snaps again and Dean’s glass disappears, and in its place a sippy cup full of blood appears. Dean smiles and grabs it with two hands to bring it up to his mouth to drink. 

The rest of the meal is full of jokes and teasing. Charlie and Kevin listen to Dean talk about dragons and colouring books and a stuffed lamb. Gabriel tells them about the treasure Dean found this morning, with many interjections from the boy himself. Castiel smiles and reassures the two humans that Dean is doing well, even if he does look flush from the fever. 

They’re all done eating, their glasses empty by their plates, but no one feels the pressure to get up, enjoying their time together. It’s Kevin’s arm that accidentally collides with his glass while he’s gesturing about the new enochian book he found. The glass hits the hard floor with a crash and the gentler sounds of the shards scattering and hitting tile. 

Dean winces away from the sound, his entire body going rigid, and his eyes go wide with fear. There’s a moment of silence, before Dean jumps up and shouts, “I did it!” Everyone turns to him in confusion, knowing that Dean had nothing to do with it. “It wasn’t Sammy, it was me. Sam’s too smart for that, you know that.” 

Castiel recognizes the glassy eyes and the words from a memory. Charlie and Kevin both go to reassure the boy, but they freeze in place when Castiel holds up a hand. Gabriel watches in sadness as Dean falls to his knees and begins picking up the glass near him  in desperation. His hands are turning red as he grabs each piece hard in his panic, the cuts and pain not processed. Gabriel snaps and all the glass disappears from the floor which leaves Dean staring at his bloody hands. Gabriel snaps again and the cuts disappear, and the blood fades away. Dean rushes to his feet and falls into military attention. The boy’s hands shake at his sides and his eyes stare straight ahead. 

Castiel gets up slowly and walks over to Dean. He stands in front of the boy and says softly, “Dean?” 

Dean winces at the name and says over his shoulder, “Sammy, go. Close and lock the door.” Dean then returns to his position. 

Castiel sighs and tries again, “Dean, you’re in a memory. What you’re seeing isn’t real.” 

Dean blinks in confusion and his eyes meet Castiel’s. The angel smiles at him and reaches a hand out for his shoulder. Dean winces but stands resolutely still, and Castiel gently places his hand where he wants it. But Dean’s body shivers at the touch and his eyes fill with tears. He blinks them away and says breathily, “I understand. Just don’t take it out on, Sammy.” 

He then bends himself over the table, his head on his arms blocking his face from view. Charlie and Kevin gasp at the implication and Kevin’s fists clench as Charlie’s hands go up to her face, to hide her shock and her eyes from the scene. 

Castiel looks at Gabriel who takes a deep breath and says, “Dean, stand up.” 

Dean levers himself to a standing position so fast he almost falls over. Castiel says, “Come here.” 

Dean comes to Castiel and stands there, though his eyes are on the ground. Castiel pulls the boy into a gentle hug and he whispers into his ear. “Dean, this isn’t real. It’s me, Cas. I will protect you and love you forever more. You will never be treated badly again. No force or abuse will ever touch your skin or mind. I am here to protect you, Dean. I love you.” Castiel keeps talking until he feels the hesitant pressure of Dean’s arms around his abdomen. Castiel smiles and places a kiss in Dean’s hair and continues speaking, encouraging Dean and reassuring the human that he is loved. 

Dean finally crushes Castiel to his chest and a breathy sob is heard. Dean lets out just a couple more before he’s pulling away and wiping his hands over his face. Castiel watches in caution to see how Dean is viewing himself right now. But when the angel meets those green eyes he can see fear and confusion, but not the signature self-loathing of Dean’s adult mind set. Dean just frowns slightly and breathes out, “Daddy? I’m- I’m sorry.” 

Castiel sighs and lays a few more kisses on Dean’s features and he says as gently and clearly as the angel can, “It’s not your fault, De. No need to apologize, me and Da love you just as much as we always have, okay? I won’t let you be hurt.” Dean falls back into Castiel’s chest, but the angel can feel the boy nodding his head. 

Dean after another moment lifts his head again and asks the air, “Da?” 

Gabriel stands with slow movements and approaches his brother and their boy. “I’m right here, Deano. I’m proud of you, you came back to us, you’re just such a good little boy.” Gabriel leans in and places his own kisses on Dean’s hair and forehead. Dean smiles at him and reaches a hand out towards the archangel, which Gabriel gladly takes into his own. Dean places the side of his face against Castiel’s chest and closes his eyes, allowing the safe feeling the angels give him to bleed back into his consciousness. 

Dean pulls away eventually and looks back at Charlie and Kevin with apprehension. Charlie is the first to understand, and she pulls her lips up to form a small smile and holds her arms out towards him. Dean sighs and quickly runs into them, humming in contentment when Charlie squeezes his body to hers tightly. Kevin is right behind him when Charlie lets him go and the prophet pulls Dean into his arms as well. It’s a bit awkward, since Dean is larger than both of them, but no one feels that Dean is anything but little.

Dean returns to Castiel’s side and Gabriel says, “How about a movie, guys?” Everyone nods in agreement and make their way to the living room. Dean’s cheeks are pink from his earlier fear and his fever. His eyes are starting to droop and he sticks his thumb into his mouth once the movie starts. Gabriel had put in How to Train Your Dragon on instinct, and Charlie and Kevin spend half the time watching the movie and the other half checking in on Dean. The boy himself soon falls asleep with his head in Castiel’s lap and his feet curled up underneath Gabriel’s legs. 

Once the credits are rolling everyone’s attention turns to Dean. His eyes are flicking around beneath his lids and his breath is even and deep. Castiel smiles and he looks at Gabriel who nods his head in silent agreement. Castiel looks to Charlie and Kevin and speaks softly, making sure to not wake Dean, “Dean needs rest, so we’re going to take him back home and put him to bed. But would you guys be interested in having dinner with us in our home?”

They both nod immediately, their eyes still on Dean’s slumbering figure. Gabriel smiles as he stands up slowly. “We’ll come and get you once Dean is awake then.” Gabriel snaps and the mess in the other room disappears. He then turns to help Castiel stand and pick up Dean. They manage the walk through the bunker and up to Dean’s room without waking the boy. Gabriel goes downstairs to grab Lucy where Dean left her next to the photo album, and by the time he returns, Castiel has Dean in bed and covered with the blankets. 

Gabriel smiles and sets Lucy next to Dean by his arm. The angels look at each other and exit the room, closing the door softly behind them. 

“Where’d the album come from?” Gabriel asks Castiel as they both settle into the couch in the living room. 

“Dean said he had it in his room, so I snapped it over to us. He really wanted to show me Sam,” Castiel replies. 

“It’s so damn ironic.”

Castiel doesn’t reply but he nods in agreement. After a long pause the younger angel asks, “Do you have any idea where he is?”

Gabriel shrugs, “Close by now, I would think. He could show up any moment.” 

“What are we going to do when he gets here?”

“That’s up to Dean.”

“But Dean isn’t thinking for himself right now.”

“Well, that’s what makes this tricky. We should bring it up at dinner tonight with Kevin and Charlie. We can all make a decision together. Charlie and Kevin haven’t seen Sam since he left either. They don’t even know why he left.”

The angels lapse into silence as they each fall into their own thoughts, all of which are circling around the two Winchester brothers.

  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finishes the first step of the process, but gets no time to relax. Sam's in town and stopping by the bunker. Last time they saw each other it was Sam walking out the door. Leaving once again. How will the brothers react to each other this time? Why does a deep anger follow Sam around?

Charlie takes the next wet and soapy dish from Gabriel to dry it, but her attention is stuck behind the two of them, her eyes focused in the living room where Castiel, Kevin, and Dean are sitting on the floor playing with toys. “I don’t know what I expected exactly...but looking at him, I can’t see him any other way,” Charlie says. 

Gabriel smirks as he dumps leftover food off a dirty plate and down the garbage disposal as he replies, “I know what you mean. He surprised us all. I’m just glad he trusts Castiel enough to become so vulnerable. I think that’s the most surprising thing about this situation. Never expected him to be able to let go quite like he has. It’s a miracle.”

Charlie looks at the archangel’s expression and leans over to bump their shoulders together gently. “They need you too, you know. Dean isn’t just showing Cas trust, he’s showing it to you too. He needs you, just like Cas.”

Gabriel shakes his head slightly in denial but doesn’t say another word as he continues to scrub the dishes in front of him. Charlie sighs and leans over to place a fat kiss on his cheek before she joins the boys in the living room. Gabriel watches her go, with his mind whirring even faster than it usually does. 

Dean looks up at Charlie as she approaches and he smiles wide. He gestures for her to come and sit down by him, and with a giggle and a visual check with Castiel, she plops herself down on the carpet by Dean. The boy then holds up a stuffed lamb and begins to earnestly introduce Charlie and Lucy to each other. Charlie is smiling hard enough to crack her teeth and she looks with adoration at Dean and Lucy. The calm from earlier in the day has spread out again, the contentedness of being a family together with no rush or catastrophes. 

When Gabriel is done with the dishes he joins his family in the living room and they talk softly amongst themselves. Dean is hot with a fever and Castiel is reluctant to give him more blood, but knows he has to. So he snaps his fingers and a cup appears in Dean’s hands. The boy barely notices and puts the cup to his lips on pure instinct. The fever is making him tired and he leans into Castiel’s side more and more with each passing moment. Castiel smiles and presses soft kisses into his hair and whispers words of encouragement and praise. Dean barely finishes his drink before he’s slipped fully into a doze on Castiel’s side. The angel relishes in the feelings of warmth and pride and joy inside his chest. The love for this boy before him is so immense that it hurts at times. Never had Castiel imagined having something like this; now he fears even thinking of a world without Dean. 

Castiel can feel Gabriel’s eyes on him and he feels a sweep of phantom cold rush across him as he turns away from Dean and back to the other three. He glances at his older brother and sees the exact expression he expected. “We need to talk,” Castiel says to the room, making sure to keep his voice low enough to not wake his baby boy. 

Charlie instantly feels the tension in the angels and her muscles begin to tighten themselves in response. “About?” she asks. 

“Sam,” Gabriel interjects. 

“What about him?” Kevin asks with a wary note in his voice. 

Castiel says, “He’s coming for a visit.” 

Gabriel adds, “We don’t know how he will react to Dean.”

“What do you mean?” Charlie asks. 

“Sam doesn’t know anything about the soul bond. Dean is in a vulnerable time, he’s cementing into his younger mindset and working through traumatic memories. The blood we’re giving him is demanding more and more energy from Dean as the mark works against it.”

Castiel says, “What we mean is...Dean is already overwhelmed. Bringing Sam back into the picture will almost undoubtedly create unneeded stress. We want to  _ minimize _ that stress.”

Charlie nods in understanding and asks, “How do we do that?”

Gabriel and Castiel exchange a long look as they silently converse. When they’re done, Castiel turns to Dean, placing more kisses on the crown of his head and Gabriel answers the question. “Similar to what you’ve already been doing. Avoid talking of hunting or anything related to it. Don’t physically push or shove him. No yelling or throwing things at him. We all need to help Sam understand and adjust to Dean’s needs.” 

Dean groans in his sleep and blearily opens his eyes while snuggling further into Castiel’s side. He looks around the small group and smiles sleepily, “What are you doin’?” 

Gabriel winks at Dean and replies, “Just boring adult stuff, Deano. Do you want to go to sleep?” 

Dean shakes his head clumsily and pouts, “I’m not tired. Wanna stay with Charlie and Kevin.” 

Castiel begins to run his fingers through Dean’s hair and he says, “They’ll be here tomorrow, baby boy. I promise.” Charlie and Kevin nod along with the words and Dean squints at them as if trying to see any signs of a lie. “But you, baby boy, I think you’re very tired.” Castiel brushes a couple fingers across the boy’s tummy and Dean chuckles in startlement and bats the hands away. He yawns widely and just nods in Castiel’s direction. The angel takes the cue and scoops Dean up into his arms and walks with him to the boy’s room. 

Dean snuggles into the blankets on his bed and relaxes the iron tight hold he had on Lucy now that they’ve stopped moving. He looks up at Castiel and whispers, “I love you, Daddy.” 

Castiel beams down at him and sits down on the edge of the bed. He places a warm hand on Dean’s back. Castiel smiles and presses kisses to his face and head. Dean giggles and flails around sleepily. Castiel pulls back then and his face turns more serious. “Dean, baby. Do you remember Balthazar telling you that Sam was coming to visit?”

Dean’s head pops up in immediate interest and he says, “Yes.” 

“Well, he’ll be here soon. Tomorrow or the day after maybe. Are you okay with that?”

Dean is caught between two heavy emotions, excitement and anxiety. He smiles though and says, “This is Sammy’s home too. ” Dean laughs but there’s a scared tension in his body. How will Sammy react? A small portion of Dean’s mind is still conscious and wary of showing this much vulnerability.

“You’ll let me know if he makes you uncomfortable at all, won’t you?” Castiel asks.

“Yes. But, Daddy...what if I make  _ him _ uncomfo--fora-- sad? Who will he go to?” 

Castiel’s heart breaks a little more at the question. Genuine in a way only children can be. Castiel has to clear his throat before he can reply, “Don’t worry, baby boy. Sam knows us too. He’ll have everything he needs. But you, you’re _my_ baby boy, and I’m going to make sure that my baby boy is happy!” 

Dean giggles and squirms around until his head is laid next to Castiel’s thigh and nuzzles his nose into the muscle there. The angel can feel the warm breath of Dean’s sigh of contentment through the fabric of his pants. Castiel once again sends a grateful prayer up. Even if God has left the building, Castiel feels that he himself is blessed. 

“Go to sleep, Dean. Dream of dragons.”

Dean doesn’t answer, having already fallen asleep when Castiel was praying. The angel smiles and lets his hand comb through the boy’s hair one more time before he stands and leaves the room. Careful to do a check in on Dean’s soul. It’s flickering in its fight against the mark, but it still shines bright and pure. 

Castiel and Gabriel say goodnight to Kevin and Charlie, who retire to the bunker. The angels clean up after the evening and then they join each other again in the living room. Gabriel picks up the album and begins flipping through it slowly. Castiel sits himself down and turns his gaze inwards, taking the time to pray and sort through his grace, making sure everything is as it should be. 

The next morning, Dean wakes and stumbles down the stairs to the angels. He’s sweaty but shivering and he’s itching at the mark on his arm. “Daddy,” Dean whines. “I don’t feel so good.” 

Castiel is next to him in moments, the back of his hand testing the temperature of his forehead. His fingers then glide down and hold Dean’s arm up to examine the mark. It’s a deep red and it’s raised from the skin. When Castiel runs his fingers over the swollen skin, Dean hisses in discomfort. The boy’s eyes are glassy with his fever and Castiel pulls the warm body into his for an embrace. He cups the back of Dean’s head with his hand and rubs circles into his back with the other hand. 

Dean shivers violently and then says “Daddy, Imma c-cold. So cold.”

Gabriel walks up to lay his own hand on Dean’s back. The archangel checks Dean’s temperature as well and says softly, “I’m sorry, Deano. I know you’re cold, but we’re going to have to make you even colder, bud.”

Dean presses himself further into Castiel’s body with a low groan of wariness and fear. Castiel’s pulls him tight and looks at Gabriel in confusion. 

“If his temperature stays this high it can do permanent damage to his body, little bro. We need to make sure his temperature goes down, or he could get brain damage.”

Castiel looks far more stricken by this information than the situation calls for, and he clutches his little boy to his chest even further. Gabriel rolls his eyes and motions towards the stairs. Castiel quickly scoops Dean up, making sure his head nestles comfortably in Castiel’s shoulder, and follows his brother up the stairs and down the hall to the bathroom. 

Gabriel turns on the cold water to the shower and looks sadly at Dean. Gabriel walks over and places his hand on Dean’s cheek and his eyebrows furrow even further. How did Dean even get down the stairs with this fever? Dean’s head lolls to the side and his eyes are open but vacant. There’s a sweat broken out across his entire body, bringing out the pink undertones of his freckled skin. 

The archangel takes a deep breath and snaps his fingers. He now holds a newly procured sippy cup of blood, and brings it to hover over Dean’s mouth. Castiel presses his lips together at the sight, but says nothing. Both of them know that they need to finish this last leg or it will all be for nothing. 

“Deano, bud. Can you drink for me?” Gabriel asks in a whisper. 

“Wh-wha?” Dean groans. Hi eyes blink slowly and the angels can see the will power and strength it takes to make them move. 

“Just a couple more of these and you’ll be done. You just need a little more blood in your system before we can move on.”

Dean stares blankly at his Da, having not processed most of what he said, but he can see a blurry image of his cup above him. So he opens his mouth and forces himself to suckle on it, until all the blood is drained from it. Castiel places him on the floor gently and begins to strip Dean’s clothes from his sweaty body. Dean groans in pain and confusion as a pulsing pain radiates from his arm into the rest of his body. 

Gabriel tests the water that’s running in the shower and grimaces but gestures for Castiel to place Dean inside. Dean cries out the instant the cold water touches his skin. When he’s completely under the spray he screams in confusion and fear and instinct. Castiel steps in behind Dean, fully clothed, and rubs his hands over Dean’s back and shoulders and stomach, trying to sooth the boy. 

Dean squirms away from the water, but can’t escape. Soon the fever and his physical efforts have zapped all his strength and he’s left lying in a crumpled heap on the floor of the shower, raw sobs shaking his body. “D-D-Daaddddyyy!” Dean moans at times. “Da!” interrupts his calls for Castiel, and both celestial beings always respond to his calls, but they can’t remove him from the spray. 

Dean eventually stops crying as well, all of his limited amount of energy used up. Gabriel and Castiel are both tuned into Dean’s bodily systems, using their grace, and are closely monitoring his temperature and health. Then Dean screams, high and filled with terror. He kicks at the air and spouts fearful gibberish as he tries to move his clumsy body on the slick floor. He’s yelling for the both of them and they try to help, but they don’t know what’s causing his distress. Dean lets one more ear splitting scream out and he gasps out the words “Not again. Don’t let it get me, please! I don’t wanna go back!” 

The two angels understand in the same second. Castiel feels a small sob of helplessness escape his chest. “Dean, baby, it’s not really there. No hellhound can get through the wards on this house. Da and I will never let anything happen to you. Do you understand?” Castiel speaks earnestly and with his own fair amount of fear. 

Whether it’s due to his angel’s words or just the exhaustion of the fever, Dean goes still once again. His eyes half lidded and frozen in place. His chest moves erratically and wordless pleas leave his mouth every so often. 

After a little while longer they gently remove him from the shower and wrap fluffy warm towels around his violently shivering figure. He’s brought to his bed and the angels breath a little easier when they see that his fever has lowered greatly, if not broken. They lay blankets over his curled form and snuggle Lucy up into his chest. Dean’s arms unconsciously come around her and crush her to his ribs in wordless pain. 

They surround him with his dinosaur friends and the two angels sit vigil on the edges of his bed. They monitor his breathing and his heart rate and his blood flow and temperature, and anything else that could possibly clue them into any negative effects. 

Dean doesn’t wake for another couple of hours, and the angels are as still as statues, waiting for any sign of discomfort. The scene of Dean cowering away from a hallucinatory hellhound still fresh in their minds. 

When Dean does stir, Castiel moves his hand to run through Dean’s hair. The boy lets out a contented hum at the familiar and comforting feeling. His eyes open slowly and the first thing he sees is Gabriel’s concerned face. “Da,” Dean whispers. He laboriously turns his head to look at Castiel next to his pillow and whispers, “Daddy.” 

Castiel smiles softly and if Dean and Gabriel notice the trembling of the angel’s full lips, they don’t bring attention to it. “Hey, baby boy. How are you feeling?” Dean’s face scrunches up in a comical expression of displeasure and Castiel’s lips pull to the side in a half smile. His hand moves to rest on Dean’s cheek and he’s happy to feel that the fever is still low.  

Dean’s face then crumples in pain and his body goes taut, his jaw clenching harshly as air hisses out between his teeth. A second later his body goes lax and he collapses back into the comfort of the pillow. “My armmm…” Dean mumbles. 

Castiel digs underneath the blankets and pulls the arm with the mark out and lays it on top of the blankets. The angels watch in unease as the mark pulses black on his skin. They watch in trepidation as Dean’s body is periodically pushed into immense pain, radiating from his arm to every part of his body. 

After a couple of hours, when Dean is far past exhausted from the constant attack on his body, they feed him another cup of blood. This causes the waves of pain to become more frequent and Castiel’s eyes leak tears as he holds Dean’s hand through the attacks. Gabriel is on Dean’s other side with that hand in his as well. Between the pain they play with the dinosaurs and make silly voices to make Dean giggle. They feed him ice chips when his lips start to chap. And they wipe the sweat from  his face with cool rags. 

The mark is slowly lightening from a deep black to a charcoal grey. The angels persuade Dean to drink one more cup of blood and they watch as Dean loses consciousness as soon as he finishes. His body jerks in his sleep but the angels watch the mark lighten to an angry red. 

Gabriel sighs with a very obvious shake to his breath, “We did it. He did it.” 

Castiel catches the notes of awe in his brother’s exclamation and it reverberates deep inside his bones. He allows the vibrations to shake his own thoughts lose and he replies, “Dean Winchester. A miracle among men.” He flashes a small teary eyed smile at Gabriel who returns the expression in full. 

Gabriel perks up and his head tilts as he listens to the sudden prayer in his head. He looks down at Dean and then over at Castiel. He says, “Charlie says Sam just got here. He’s in the bunker.” 

Castiel’s eyes narrow at the words and his hand tightens around Dean’s now lax fingers. The angel instantly lightens the grip and replies, “We are not waking him.” 

“No, of course not.”

Castiel hums in thought, a habit he picked up from Charlie, and his eyes flit around the now relaxed and soft features of Dean’s freckled face. “Can you go take care of it? I’ll stay here and make sure Dean is safe and be here if he needs anything.” 

Gabriel looks at Dean, loath to be separated from him now, but he nods his head. He stands up to place a kiss on Dean’s cooled forehead and then in a flutter of wings he’s gone. Castiel sends a thankful prayer to his older brother and Gabriel returns the emotions. Castiel smiles at the warmth seeping into his grace. 

____________________________________________________________________________________

Charlie watches the younger Winchester descend the stairs to the bunker with sharp eyes. A familiar feeling of warmth and joy spreads through her upon seeing the man, but the news of his abandonment of Dean makes her blood boil. When she speaks her voice remains sweet, Sam is a hard person to stay mad at, “Long time no see, Sam!” 

The man in question looks up and grins at her, “Hey, Charlie!” His eyes flick past her towards her chaotic work area stuffed in a corner of the library and his brows rise in surprise. “I see you’ve...made some improvements…”

Charlie giggles and pride wells up inside her. “Yupp! #HackandHunt2k17! It’s about time someone brought this operation into the new century.” 

Sam nods but his face is tense and he clears his throat and looks away from her towards the left where more footsteps can be heard approaching. “Kevin?” Sam asks in surprise when the prophet turns the corner. “You’re still here?” 

Kevin pauses and looks at Charlie to see if he’s missing something important, but the woman looks just as confused as he is. “Yes?”

Sam just shakes his head and he chuckles, but it feels dark as it bounces on the stone walls. “Just thought you’d be at school by now. I can’t imagine staying here and dealing with Dean is how you’d pick to spend your time now that the tablets have become background noise. Especially now.” 

Charlie’s eyes once again narrow and she asks, “What do you mean especially now?”

Sam shrugs and doesn’t look at her but rather keeps his eyes on Kevin. There’s an uncomfortable silence before Kevin clears his throat and says, “You and Dean may have saved me and kept me alive, but I can’t return to my previous life.”

“So you’re bumming it underground with my brother?”

Kevin shifts in confusion, “I’m still doing prophet work. The tablets may be gone, but there’s a lot more to it then just those rocks.”

Sam nods slowly and turns back to Charlie, “And you? You still trying to be a hunter? Or are you strictly management now? Posting selfies with hashtags and sending out memos to the community?”

Charlie bristles at the words, but Sam has a teasing smile on his face. The words feel pointed and she doesn’t know how to react. She’s saved from having to respond to the patronizing question, by Gabriel entering the room and saying, “Charlie has single handedly revolutionized the hunting community. Never has hunting gone so smoothly. The whole country is plugged in to this one hub of communication. It’s really amazing. Just like our girl here!” Gabriel beams at Charlie and points two dramatic finger guns at her. Charlie grins and curtsies with a half embarrassed, half proud expression. 

Sam looks at Gabriel and there’s a light in his eyes that flickers to life, “Gabe!” Sam exclaims. 

“How’s retirement treating you, Samsquatch?” 

Sam leans his head to one side as if in thought, and he finally settles with, “Restless.” 

Gabe raises a brow and he asks, “Is that why you’re visiting? With no call?”

There’s a flicker of a darker emotion at the second question, but it’s gone too fast to identify. Sam grouses out, “This is my home too, I don’t need to call in to come here.” 

Gabriel holds up both hands in a sign of surrender at the defensive tone and says, “Whatever you say, Sammy.” Gabriel reaches out with his grace towards Sam’s soul and is disappointed to find it glowing a darker colour than it had been before. Touching the edge of it he feels anger. An almost numb continuous hum of anger. He quickly pulls back, reaching for Castiel’s warmer grace to sooth the sting. 

“Where’s my no good brother, anyways?” Sam asks. His eyes look around the room as if expecting Dean to just pop up when he calls. 

Kevin and Charlie both look at Gabriel, them being curious as well. “He’s resting. He’s been through a lot this morning. He’ll come out when he’s feeling better.” 

The two bunker residents nod in understanding with empathy burning in their eyes, but Sam scoffs and says, “What? Just give him some vicodin and a shitty bottle of scotch. That’s the Winchester band aid. Tell him to get his ass out here.” 

Gabriel replies, “He is indisposed right now, Sam. He’s going to come when he’s feeling up to it, and no sooner.” 

Sam laughs and turns to heads towards the kitchen, “What’s he up to now? Dead drunk or punching holes in the walls?” The tall man doesn’t wait for a reply as he disappears into the hallways to the kitchen. He opens the fridge to find no beer and he scowls. He slams the door closed and yells, “Where’s the beer?” He walks back out to the main area and flops onto one of the couches. “Has Dean skipped the kitchen entirely and just sleeps with the beer now? Easy access for the morning?”

Gabriel frowns and says, “Dean has cut back on the alcohol.” 

Sam snorts and looks over at him with an over the top incredulous expression, “What? Suuure. Don’t trust anything he says, he lies through his teeth. Anything to get you to stop asking questions, you know?”

Gabriel huffs in anger but bites his lip and heads back the way he came. Charlie runs to catch up with him and he stops in the hallway to turn to her. “How is he?” Charlie asks. 

Gabriel smiles softly, his anger forgotten, at Charlie’s genuine care. “He’s asleep right now. The mark finally reacted and he had a few rough hours, touch and go. But now the mark has dulled and he’s sleeping it off. I’m sure he won’t feel great for the next few days, but he’s fine.” 

Charlie smiles and dramatically drags her hand across her forehead and says, “Whew. Glad that I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Gabriel smiles and says, “I’m sure Dean wouldn’t want you to worry too much.” 

Charlie smiles in understanding. “Of course not, he’d say something about how he’s more concerned about me taking up all the wifi. The man still doesn’t know how that works…”

Gabriel chuckles and rises to his tiptoes to plant a small peck on Charlie’s cheek and says, “I’m going to head back and check in on our two love birds. If you have any...problems,” Gabriel says cautiously, “just send me a prayer and I’ll come.” Charlie nods and Gabriel flits to the home he shares with Dean and Castiel. 

Upon reaching their home, he walks up the stairs slowly, taking the time to sort through his thoughts and calm his mind. Watching Dean in pain is never easy, especially when he’s calling out their names, begging for them to help him. Gabriel is not used to feeling so completely helpless. If it had been a normal fever he could have snapped and it would have disappeared. If Dean was just sick, he could help. But this is a sickness of the soul. This is something that no person, medicine, or angel can help with. Not molecularly at least. Dean is in a fight. For his soul. 

Gabriel slips through the door quietly and smiles to see Dean’s eyes open and looking up at Castiel. The angel cards fingers through his hair and they’re speaking quietly. Gabriel could easily hear them if he tried, but he finds he’s content just looking in on the scene and hearing the faint murmur of their conversation. After a few long moments of taking in the sight and pushing his fears of the future back, he joins them on the bed and in their chat. 

“Hey, Bud!” Gabriel greets Dean with enthusiasm but low volume. 

Dean smiles up at him and though his skin is a little gray and there are shadows under the boy’s eyes, his smile is genuine and big. “Da! Where were you?” 

Gabriel throws a glance at Castiel, who in turn just gives a small nod of his head. They can’t avoid this forever.  “I was just welcoming Sam into the bunker.” Gabriel keeps his voice light, but his eyes are trained on Dean’s expression to catch whatever reaction he has. 

Dean’s eyes widen and there’s an instantaneous smile. After that instant of pure joy, his mouth turns down in confused realization. In his smaller mindset, memories aren’t clear. He knows things have happened in a general sense, but it is generally strong emotions that he feels, not specifics. His first instinct was happiness, excited beyond measure to see his little brother again, but then a sickening weight dropped in his stomach. 

“Will Sam want to see me?” Dean asks in genuine confusion. He doesn’t know why his stomach is turning in on itself, but he remembers Sam leaving. “He left again, didn’t he? What did I do this time?”

Castiel says earnestly, “He didn’t leave because of you, baby boy.” Gabriel watches Dean with a puzzled tilt to his head. Something is different about Dean now.

Dean frowns, “He always leaves because of me.” Small details are clicking into place. He remembers the bad,  _ evil _ , feeling of the mark. Remembers Sam getting mad at him for...something. He blinks away the blurred images of blood and death, not being able to comprehend them. “It’s this thing.” He points accusatorily at the mark on his arm. “I don’t like it.”

“You shouldn’t like it,” Gabriel points out. “But, we’re fixing it. Remember? That’s what all the blood you’ve been drinking is for.” Gabriel reaches out tentatively with his grace towards the boy’s soul, itching to find out what’s different, and is surprised by what he finds. 

He catches Castiel’s eyes and the other angel whispers, “I know.” Dean’s soul, through the pain of the last transfusions, through the haze of the fever, and his fear, had snapped down even further into his little mindset. Had snapped fully into it. He is looking at the world in a simpler way. An easier way. His soul breaking things down into simpler pieces in a self defense effort. 

Dean’s face is confused but Castiel pulls him into a loose embrace and says, “We don’t have to head over until you’re feeling up to it, okay?” 

Dean nods and he looks between his angels and asks, “You’ll come with me, right?” Dean only closes his eyes when he’s gotten verbal affirmation from both his Daddy and his Da. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Plans are made with Charlie and Kevin for dinner at the bunker, an open invitation left for the remaining Winchester to join if wanted. Gabriel goes a couple of hours early, wanting to speak to the younger Winchester, to slowly break the news, as well as feel out his mood.

Sam looks up from where he’s splayed across the couch, his body far too long for the piece of furniture. “I looked in his room and he’s not there, and you’d tell me if he was on a hunt. So where the hell is he?”

The archangel shuffles his feet and says, “That’s why I’m here. He’s feeling a bit better, but he’s still not back to where he should be, you know?” 

Sam huffs and he kicks his feet off the armrest, and slams them to the floor as he shifts into a sitting position. “No, Gabe. I don’t know. If Dean is still upset about me leaving, then he can stay gone for all I care. He can’t make my decisions for me any longer.” 

Gabriel bites his tongue, in respect for Dean, and replies, “Sam. We need to talk.” 

Sam’s cloudy expression clears a bit and he shifts where he sits so one side of the couch is open. Gabriel takes the proffered seat.

Gabriel ignores the automatic questions Sam voices and starts explaining, “The mark has changed Dean. We all know this. And there doesn’t seem to be any way to remove it.”

“I  _ did _ find a way, you guys are just too coward to do it.”

Gabriel looks at Sam in surprise, “You used to always say we need to make the decisions for the bigger picture, Sam. What happened?” 

Sam waves off the archangel’s words and says, “‘The Darkness’, whatever that means is nothing but a myth.”

“How can you believe that? You live your life following and killing myths.”

“Is this what you wanted to talk about, Gabe? Because you guys made your stance on it pretty clear already.”

“No,” Gabriel pauses to catch his wits and continues, “We found a way that could help. Couldn’t remove it, but could help Dean hold it back. It’s a soul bond, Sam.” 

“Those are real?”

“Yes. Gravely so.”

“But how would that help?”

“Because the bond is between a human and an angel. Such bonds are rare, but the grace of an angel can, or at least we desperately hope it can, help counteract the mark’s influence. We’re hoping it will give him a way to keep the mark at bay, indefinitely.” 

“An angel bond. I presume either you or Cas?”

Gabriel nods and clarifies, “Cas, of course.”

A look of consternation slowly bleeds into Sam’s expression but he doesn’t say anything further. Gabe continues, “But there are side effects to this process, the main one being that Dean is… a bit out of character.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It’s complicated, but basically we need to repair his soul by patching up the holes and scars. But since Dean has been mistreated since a very young age, we have a lot of the soul to fix. So, Dean’s mind has regressed to that of a child’s.”

“What??” Sam asks in genuine bafflement. “And he said yes to this? I don’t believe you.” 

“It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not, you’ll see it for yourself in due time. It’s still Dean, his mental faculties are just… simplified. Castiel and I are trying to give him a new childhood.” 

Sam very obviously presses his lips together to keep some comment or another in, as he just looks at Gabriel in contemplation. 

Gabriel takes advantage of the silence and continues, “So, when Dean comes over here, he’s going to be easily frightened, anxious, exuberant, and he’s been sick.” 

“Why’s he sick? Dean never gets sick. He’s like a germaphobe.” 

“It’s part of the process. The first step was blood, so he’s been drinking angel blood, but the mark is fighting against the creation of the bond, and it put a heavy toll on his body and mind.” 

Sam scrunches his nose up in disgust but Gabriel quickly moves on, “So, you must help him in this fragile state. Don’t yell or hit him, don’t--” 

“Yeah, I got it,” Sam interrupts. “He’s a child. Or whatever. I mean, Dean’s always been fragile, he always needs  _ special _ attention and caution.” 

Gabriel’s temper heats up again and he starts to reprimand Sam, “Listen here, Sam, you don’t--”

“Shut up!” Sam roars as he stands up, in a hurry to distance himself from Gabriel. “You can’t come in here and act all righteous, lecturing me on my brother. Telling me who he is .  For fuck’s sake, Gabe, you killed him hundreds of times, just a few years ago! He’s  _ my  _ brother! I know him better than anyone, and certainly better than you! I’ve known Dean my whole life, and I’m not blind to his flaws any longer. I love him. He’s my family, of course I love him, but I also know what he’s capable of. What he’s done before. It’s all a pattern, Gabriel, and you don’t have any right to tell me off for speaking the truth.” 

Sam doesn’t wait for a response before he’s moving away from the couch and towards his room. Gabriel just watches him go in shock. He stays there on the couch for a few minutes, still staring where Sam had disappeared to. Then with a resigned shake of his head he stands and flies back to the house. 

____________________________________________________________________________________

The mood around the table is tentatively light, as the adults chatter about whatever takes their fancy. Dean, however, sits mostly quiet, against his normal character. He watches the others’ faces and smiles at their laughter, but he only talks when talked to. Castiel can feel the anxiety in Dean, and he wants to help alleviate it, but he’s feeling no calmer himself; constantly checking for Sam’s bulky frame. Castiel knows that the visit between Gabriel and Sam had not gone well. 

The older angel clears his throat and says, “Shall we retire to the living room? I believe our future holds a rather excitable game of Scattergories.” 

Charlie claps in excitement but says in a mockingly serious tone, “The teams will be random this time, boys. Castiel and Gabriel are not allowed to be on the same team ever again.” 

Gabriel throws his hands up in surrender and winks at her, “So which angel do you want, Ms. Bradbury? Choose wisely!” 

She ponders the question a moment before answering, “I will take Castiel and Dean. I don’t think the bunker can handle me and Gabe on the same team for very long.” 

Dean giggles and Kevin just rolls his eyes, but he sends a little grin at Gabriel, that the archangel returns with interest. Gabriel stands with a flourish and snaps all the food away. “To our fate!” he exclaims running towards the couches. Dean is right behind him and laughs uproariously when Gabriel scoops him up and throws him onto a couch. Dean’s laughter dies in his throat when he sees Sam turn the corner. Sam pauses when he sees the two of them, and the other three walking up behind them. 

Dean flushes very noticeably and straightens himself immediately. Sam’s eyes travel over the boy’s body, eyebrows raising at the plaid board shorts and the gentle blue long sleeved shirt his older brother is wearing. Dean looks at Gabriel beside him and swivels his head towards Castiel who is rounding the corner of the couch to come sit next to him. Castiel lays a warm supporting hand on Dean’s back and with that strength lent to him, Dean turns around to face Sam. “Hello, Sammy,” Dean says softly, eyes to the left of his brother’s head. Dean’s skin is itchy and he still can’t remember why he’s so sure that Sam is mad at him. But he does remember that Sam left him, and he feels a lot of guilt at that fact. 

“Dean?” Sam asks with a bewildered expression. His eyes then shift to Castiel and he asks, “Seriously?” 

Castiel’s eyes narrow at Sam and his full lips press together. Gabriel recognizes that expression and cuts in with, “Samsquatch! Are you interested in a friendly game of Scattergories?” Gabriel rises from the couch and walks up to Sam.

Sam looks at Gabriel with the same sort of bewildered expression and asks, “What? Why the hell would I want to do that?” 

Dean winces at the the question and Castiel brings an arm around Dean’s back, pulling him safely into the angel’s side. Charlie glares at Sam and says, “What would you prefer, Samuel?” 

Sam shrugs and smirks, “I don’t know, a beer? It’s like the prohibition in here.” 

Castiel growls, “The bunker is alcohol free, Sam.” 

Sam’s eyes flit over Dean, whose face is directed towards his lap. “You’re not serious? I heard the ‘rumours’ from Gabriel, but I didn’t believe… How’d you give the shit up, Dean?” 

Dean’s head snaps up at the words and he stutters, “I-I,” he glances at Castiel in confusion and finishes the sentence the only way he can think of, “Little boys don’t get grown up drinks, Sam.” 

Sam stares at Dean for a moment before he bursts out into loud laughter. The sudden noise makes Dean flinch heavily into his angel, and Castiel’s glare at Sam gains even more heat. “Sam, watch your volume.” 

“But if he doesn’t get  _ grown up drinks _ , how could he possibly be hungover?” 

Gabriel slaps a hand on Sam’s shoulder, quite a feat considering their height differences, and Sam winces at the archangel’s supernatural strength. Sam holds out his hands in a placating motion and he says, “I’m sorry.” 

Charlie speaks up again, “How about we all sit down and take a moment to breath?” She chuckles with a clear worried waver in her voice. But the others do as she says. Sam drags a chair from the library down to the area and sets the chair opposite from Dean and Cas’ couch. 

Dean has pulled his knees up to his chest, with his feet perched precariously on the edge of the couch. Dean looks at Sam in awe and the large man shifts in discomfort at the look. The look is very familiar, yet it has a new rawness to it in Dean’s current condition .  Dean sets his head on Castiel’s shoulder and continues to stare at his brother. Sam’s expression softens and he asks, “How are you doing, Dean?” 

Dean beams at Sam in a childish glee that Dean has never had the opportunity to experience before now. He lifts his head up off Castiel’s shoulder and says, “Good! I have dragons, did you know?” 

Sam chuckles and shakes his head, “I didn’t know that.” 

Charlie grins at Dean and says, “Dean, here, is quite enamoured with dragons of all kinds. He has lots of dragon toys.” 

Dean nods his head, “I do. Lots of dragons and games and cars and and and…. And Lucy!” 

“Who is Lucy?” Sam asks, looking at the angels for the answer. 

Dean answers the question though, “She’s my friend. Gabriel made her for me.” 

“Oh?” Sam glances at Gabriel who has a soft smile as he looks fondly at Dean. Sam feels a spike of anger jolt through him when he sees that face, but it disappears as fast as it had hit. “Who or what is he talking about, Gabe?” 

Gabriel looks at Sam for a moment but quickly looks back to Dean, “You want her to come here, Dean? To meet Sam?” 

Dean nods and Gabriel snaps loudly. The next moment Sam is looking down at his lap where a long legged white lamb with a blue ribbon around its neck sits innocently on his legs. Sam understands all too quickly and a dark smirk curls on his lips, “Funny, reminds me of my sheep.” He looks up at Dean and sees the happy glint of his eyes, and the easy grin on his lips. So different than the drunk angry and abusive man he expected Dean to have turned into. The thought catches inside Sam and he spits out, “Though, of course I didn’t need surrogate fake angel dads to get myne.” 

There’s dead silence in the room after that statement, only broken a moment later by the hitch of Dean’s breathing. Castiel’s voice is even deeper than normal when he says with real warning, “Sam.” That one word sends shivers down Sam’s back, and what he said catches up to him. 

Sam shakes his head and leans heavily back in his chair, confused why he said something like that. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” But even as he says that he knows it’s a lie. He pushes the anger down and looks at the ground. 

Gabriel snaps his fingers and Lucy reappears in Dean’s lap. The boy instantly snatches her up and clutches her to his chest. The boy though, never looks away from Sam. There is a shine to the boy’s eyes, but Dean just blinks them back heavily. He has this unwavering  _ need _ to protect Sam. “No, I’m sorry,” Dean says contritely. 

“What?” Sam asks looking up in surprise.

Dean flushes again but just mumbles, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you think of then.” Sam recognizes that earnest face and the desperation in his eyes; it’s Dean’s, I don’t know what just happened, but I’m willing to do whatever to get past it to keep you happy, face. 

Sam scoffs and turns his head back to the ground, “Whatever, Dean.” 

Dean frowns and his hands clench around Lucy, but he doesn’t say another word. Sam surprisingly enough speaks first, “What have you all been doing in my absence? Thought you’d all be lost without me.” He chuckles at the statement but it stirs the air unpleasantly. 

Charlie says, “Just the same. We’re all doing what we love, and we’re doing great!” Sam can see the honesty in those words, but it only makes him grit his teeth. He was so sure that the bunker would be falling apart. That Dean would have pushed everyone away, and driven them out of the bunker. He was prepared to come in and pick Dean up off the floor, and spend days unraveling the mess he’s made of things. But they were all happy. Content. 

“You been hunting, Dean?” Sam asks. 

Dean’s brow furrows, the words hit a chord within him, but he doesn’t know why they feel so familiar. So significant. It feels like a thought on the tip of his tongue, that refuses to fall. The mark on his arm burns and Dean’s other hand claps over it at the unexpected pain. Everyone’s eyes follow the movement and they wait for Dean’s face to relax from its pained position. 

“The mark still making you crazy and murderous?” Sam asks with concern. 

Dean looks blankly at Sam, “What?” 

“Surely, you can’t forget all of what you’ve done. To me, to--”

“ _ That is quite enough, Sam,”  _ Castiel bites out. 

Dean winces as the mark burns hotly again, and he lets out a small whimper of pain and confusion. “What?” he asks again. The words around him are fuzzy and his head is starting to hurt. He’s trying to remember things that don’t want to be seen. “It hurts.” 

Castiel’s hand comes to rest on top of Dean’s, both holding the pained area. Dean’s arm feels like the arm is cramping severely. His head is a bit dizzy and he leans further into the angel at his side, trying to keep calm. “Daddy, what’s happening?” Dean asks in obvious discombobulation. 

Castiel moves and he’s kneeling on the floor in front of Dean, “What’s the matter, baby boy?” Blue eyes stare into Dean’s green ones, and Dean lets out a sigh of relief, as he can finally focus on something. Get lost in the blue of those irises, and let them cool his head and arm. 

Dean smiles at Castiel, having forgotten about the pain already, “What are you doing, Daddy?” 

Gabriel and Castiel share a worried look, but Castiel just sits down next to Dean again and says, “Nothing, sweetie. Just looking after my little boy!” 

Dean giggles and everyone in the room, besides Sam, smiles in fond relief. Sam watches for the next several minutes as the five of them interact easily and joyfully. He watches all the care and attention being given to his brother. The smile on Dean’s face brings a small grin to Sam’s as well, but the longer he watches them all, the stronger his feeling of disgust grows. Why does Dean deserve this, and not him? He’s the better brother. The stronger and smarter one. 

Sam listens to Dean stutter several times in one sentence and watches Castiel slowly coach him through it. The giant of a man can’t stop the scathing scoff that escapes him. When everyone’s eyes turn to him he grimaces and says, “What the hell, Dean? I haven’t heard you stutter like a fool since you had to explain to your teachers that you were three grades behind.” The looks he receives after that comment stoke the fire inside him even hotter and he bites out, “What? We all know that Dean’s...how should I say… _ lacking _ in that area.” 

Castiel’s face turns darker than Sam has ever seen it, and the angel says from behind clenched teeth, “Can I talk to you in the kitchen, Samuel?” Castiel doesn’t wait for a response as he springs from his seat and reaches a hand out for Sam’s arm. As soon as contact is made, the two of them blink out of sight. 

Sam falls on his ass on the kitchen tile as Castiel lands them in the kitchen. Sam scowls up at Castiel and stands with a quickly reddening face. “Castiel, what the--”

“You are putting yourself in a precarious position, Sam,” Castiel growls. “I would suggest you rectify this or leave entirely.” 

“You can’t kick me out of my home, Cas!” 

“I think you’ll find no support from the others, besides Dean. Now, hold your tongue or I will do it for you. Dean is going against everything in his body, he’s given his entire life and sanity into my hands. I will not allow you or anyone else put him down or make him doubt himself. This is an opportunity for me to be able to give Dean back all the things he sacrificed for others. To give him the care he’s never received, especially not from  _ you _ . Now, you may be his brother, but I hold no scruples when it comes to Dean. I will not tolerate your behaviour any longer.” 

“Fuck you, Cas. He’s  _ my _ brother.” 

“And he’s my everything,” Cas says without hesitation. Castiel walks up to Sam until there’s only a couple of inches between them. Sam looks down into the angel’s furious blue eyes, and though the human has the position of power, he feels small and unimportant under that gaze. “I’ve let you treat Dean badly for years, Sam. For many of those I didn’t understand the implications of your actions and reactions, but I’m a fool no longer. I won’t tolerate the toxicity.”

Sam forces a sardonic laugh, even as his guts spasm in anxiety, “How can you speak to me of toxic relationships? You’ve treated him no better.”

Castiel closes his eyes for a long moment in apparent regret. He takes a step back before he opens them and says, “I will not deny that I have not always acted...properly around Dean. But that doesn’t mean I won’t do anything in my power to protect him now. I’ve braved every realm for him and I will again. I have died for him and I will again. I have given my sanity, my power, and my grace to him. And I will never stop working to deserve the devotion he gives me. And neither should you.” 

“Deserve? You think Dean deserves this  _ bond _ ? He’s just using you, you feathery headed idiot.”

Cas’ eyes glint with a darkness that Sam can’t look at directly. Sam shakes his head as an excuse to look away and continues, “I mean, Dean, he’s barely a person, especially with his  _ dramatics _ about the mark. So he grabs onto the people closest to him and he takes whatever you give him until there’s nothing left. That’s all you are, a means to an end. This bond is... idiotic. If you knew him like I know him, you would never have agreed, because he’ll just drag you down with him, just like he always does. How did he get you to agree to this, anyways?” 

“I don’t understand, Sam. Why do you hold so much anger? How can you ignore everything that Dean has given you? How can you not see how cruel your disrespect to him is?” Castiel squares his shoulders and his hands are shaking from the will power it takes to stop himself from beating Sam to the ground without mercy for the blasphemy he’s spouting about his Dean. “I don’t know when your mind got so twisted, or when you turned against everyone who has ever loved you, but it saddens me greatly to see. I will fight to not fail Dean now, because I’ve already failed to protect you, the one thing he truly wanted of me.”

“You’re disillusioned, Cas!” 

Castiel growls and a flicker of electric blue sparks across his irises, his body exuding the power of his grace. The angel looks, without blinking, straight into Sam’s eyes, and into the man’s warped soul. “You don’t understand me, Samuel. Dean is under  _ my _ protection. I will not allow you to speak to or about him the way you have. Your anger is your own, so don’t make us take the brunt of it. You’ve hurt Dean enough for me to see you as an enemy, but I’ve worked to help you and respect you because of the loyalty your brother holds for you. But know, that if you were  _ any _ one else, at _ any _ other time, I would have you punished severely. I would take your soul and discard it. If you were the brother that had been dragged to hell, you would have been left to rot on the rack. Because we all know, Dean is the stronger of the two of you. He’s the smarter, stronger, more loyal, pure Winchester. When people hear the name Winchester, they think of Dean. The righteous man. Not the brother who sympathizes with Lucifer. Not the man who turned against his family, repeatedly, for demons or blood. Not the man that abandoned his brother to purgatory. You, Sam, destroy  _ everything _ you touch and leave the clean up for others. For your brother. You are the reason Dean has never had a real family. You are the one thing that stands between Dean and peace. I will not tolerate your disrespect to the man. I will not allow you to ridicule or mock him. If you cannot stay civil  _ I will remove you _ . If you cannot accept the bond, then I will make the bunker inaccessible to you.” Castiel pauses and takes one more step towards Sam and almost whispers the next words to the man, “Listen now, Sam, and listen good;  _ You are not deserving. _ You do not have my respect, my pity, or my acknowledgement. You will  _ not  _ hurt my family or I will hurt  _ you _ . Remember, I am an angel of the lord. I have been god. I have died just as many times as you. But you? You’re just a man, and a selfish one at that. You... Sam Winchester... _ are nothing _ . I’d be careful to remember that.”

Castiel disappears before Sam’s eyes with the familiar ruffle of feathers and appears before Dean and Gabriel. The archangel and the boy are sitting on the couch that Castiel himself had vacated to speak with Sam. Dean’s face is pressed into Gabriel’s chest and small hitching sobs can be heard. Charlie and Kevin are nowhere in sight, and Castiel falls to his knees before his baby boy. “Dean, baby, look at me,” Castiel croons. 

Dean slowly turns his face away from Gabriel’s chest to look at Castiel’s comforting blue eyes, but his hands stay bunched in Gabriel’s shirt. “Daddy?”

Castiel nods and places a gentle hand on the side of Dean’s tear stained face, “Yes, baby boy.” Castiel rubs the tears on his cheeks away and says with pure adoration and clear determination, “I need you to do something for me, baby boy.”

Dean straightens further, releasing his hold on the fabric and blinking his tears away, “Anything, Daddy.”

Castiel smiles and his eyes glitter with unshed tears of admiration, a familiar feeling of disbelief washes through him. The angel finds it hard to remember or understand why this soul, this beautiful soul of Dean Winchester had chosen him to love. “I need you to remember something. I need you to know that I love you,  _ unconditionally _ . I need you to know that you’re a genius, my lamb.  That no matter what people may say, you are Dean Winchester and you have an uncorrupted soul that inspires and helps people. That you are deserving and loved. Can you do that, little lamb? Can you do that for me?”

Dean’s eyes are tearing up again for a completely new reason and his breath hitches as he nods erratically to Castiel’s pleas. “Yes, Daddy.” 

Castiel leans up to place a kiss to Dean’s forehead and smiles into the warmth of the boy’s skin. “Good. Good. I love you, Dean. More than I can say.” 

Dean giggles and says, “I love you too.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! There will be one more chapter after this, and then part 4 will begin with the next step in the soul bond for Dean. Hope this chapter lives up to your expectations.   
> Reviews appreciated.


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's behaviour comes to a head. The younger Winchester and the archangel have a serious discussion. Will Sam accept his brother? Or will his anger get the best of him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I posted this really late at night, because that's when I had the motivation to actually work on it. I will be rereading and fixing any typos or glaring errors tomorrow. Thanks for your patience.

Gabriel starts when he hears the prayer ring through his head. He hesitates, before he vanishes and reappears in Sam’s room of the bunker. Sam looks up and his eyes appear dull and tired. “Thanks for coming, Gabe,” Sam says.

“I almost didn’t,” Gabe replies.

Sam nods but his eyes return to the floor. Gabriel can see his soul pulsing a bit with weariness and regret. The archangel’s anger ebbs away as he watches the chaotic emotions inside Sam. But Gabriel can still feel something off with the younger Winchester and his muscles remain tense.

“What is this about, Sam?” Gabriel asks.

Sam looks up again at Gabriel and lets out a slow long exhale. “I want to help,” Sam says.

“Help?”

“I want to help you. And Castiel and the others. I think you’re all in for a bad surprise.”

Gabriel struggles to reply through his confusion, “How so?”

“It’s Dean. There’s some things you need to know about him.”  
“If this is another--” Gabriel starts furiously.

Sam interrupts, “It isn’t. Just- Just hear me out. Please.”

Gabriel glowers in the man’s direction but sets his feet more firmly on the ground. “I’m staying because Dean would want me to.”

Sam winces and replies, “What happened? To you. To me. To him. You used to think I was the funny one. You used to hate Dean. But now, you can barely stand to be in the same room as me.”

Gabriel keeps a stoic face as he answers, “What happened? You abandoned your brother when he needed you most. I can see the goodness in Dean now. And I can see the _darkness_ in you. Your soul hums with anger, Sam.”

Sam waves his words away, “I know. I’m dealing with my anger issues, but that’s not what I need to talk to you about.” Sam takes a deep breath and looks at Gabriel, “I want to _warn_ you. Castiel won’t listen. But this bond is dangerous. To everyone, but especially Dean.”

Gabriel frowns, “How? This can save Dean.”

“It could. You’re right. But it could destroy you and Cas. Dean Winchester is a weapon, and that’s all he knows. You just point and shoot and Dean will get it done.”

Gabriel’s hands have curled into fists by his side and he spits out, “Dean Winchester is _so much more._ ”

“Perhaps. But Dean _is_ selfish. Incredibly selfish. He’s going to use this bond and he’s going to take and take from it. The thing about my brother is that he’s barely alive most of the time. So he grabs onto everyone else’s lives, and makes you live for him. I love him dearly, of course. But this bond...will be the destruction of you. He will drag you two down with him.”

“Bullshit, Samuel! If anyone is living for someone else, it’s him living for you.”

“Dean has clung to me for as long as I can remember. He’s scared of being alone, don’t you see? He makes you keep going when you want to stop. He guilts you into coming back to him. He criticizes your every decision. Why do you think I left, Gabe? Because, Dean got himself into another mess. He brought the mark upon himself, and no matter how many dramatics he kicks up, he still deserves whatever happens to him. But you, you don’t deserve that. Let Dean drown in his mistakes, and maybe you can stay dry.”

Gabriel looks at Sam’s calm expression in complete disbelief. His face remains unchanged but his soul is flaring in angry bouts. Gabriel lets out a few deep breathes, that could be seen as a dark chuckle, and says, “You speak so confidently, but your soul shows the truth. You’re scared, Sam.”

Sam stands hurriedly, “I am no such thing. I’m trying to _help_ you!”

“Well, you can stop helping,” Gabriel hisses. “Samuel Winchester, been living in Dean’s shadow for too long.”

“Shut up, Gabe! I have nothing to prove! I’m the better hunter. I’ve been to college. I’m the one who stopped the apocalypse! Dean would be nothing without me!”

“If that were true, why do you hold so much anger towards him?”

Sam growls in frustration and runs his hands roughly through his long locks, pulling slightly as he paces back and forth. “Because Dean… I’m just... “

“It’s because you’re angry that you can’t love so freely like Dean. You’re angry at him, because he told you not to trust Ruby, not to drink blood, not to use the book of the damned; he’s always right.”

“He’s the _righteous man_ ,” Sam says with violent sarcasm. “Why does he deserve all this, and I don’t? How can he make so many damn mistakes and still be heaven’s chosen warrior?”

“Because, Sam. Because Dean can never walk away, like you have so many times. Dean can’t not do his best, to fight for safety, to protect those he loves. That’s not an option to him.”

“He can’t walk away because he’s a goddamn perfect soldier. Because he likes the violence. Because there’s nothing outside of hunting for him to do.”

“No. You’re the one who’s scared of facing the world, of acknowledging your flaws. So seeing Dean finally climb his way out of the bottle, and find something good for himself, is an insult to your pride, and nothing more. You thought Dean would always be a mess. So you would always be able to hold that over him. But let’s be real, Sam, you’ve always been the real mess.”

Sam’s eyes tear up and Gabriel clears his throat and looks away. There’s an anger simmering inside him at the degradation of Dean’s character, but looking at Sam brings a colder feeling of pity. The man before him is confused, as he always has been. He’s mad at the world and lost in his own life.

“Sam. Dean loves you more than anything. He raised you and protected you for years.”

“Dean’s a dramatic! He claims a lot of things, but really he’s just as bad as John! Making me live for him!” Sam shouts.

Gabriel’s every muscle goes taut and he says sickeningly calmly, “Don’t you dare to _ever_ compare the two of them again. Dean is _nothing_ like John. Dean is _everything_ that John is not. Dean protected you from John, Sammy. Why do you think he was so adamant that you and your father get along even as adults?”

Sam feels something inside him quiver at Gabriel’s tone and he doesn’t manage to reply for a couple of long moments as he calms himself. “Dean has always been desperately reaching for John’s approval, _that’s_ why.”

Gabriel lets out a long breath of frustration, trying to get himself under control. “How can you be this obtuse, Sam? Dean has worked his entire life to give you everything. He’s been through more than you can possibly imagine.”

“That I can’t imagine? I lived through John’s temper too! I was there when he couldn’t put down the bottle! Who was the one that got disowned by the man for going to college?”

Gabriel laughs, a dark humour forcing it out of his chest. “Dean did his job _too_ well, I see. He protected you from everything, s _o_ well, that you can’t even remember it. Well, let me do you a favor, let me teach you the truth and of _humility._ ” Gabriel strides forward the few steps he needs to reach Sam, and he looks Sam in the eye with a heat that even the archangel himself can feel burning, “I will _make_ you understand what he’s done for you, Sammy boy.” Gabriel then reaches up to place two fingers upon the taller man’s head.

Sam blinks at the touch and finds himself in a motel room; before him is a screen, as large as the wall it covers. Upon that screen are memories being replayed. They’re moving too fast for Sam to see properly, but he can hear John’s threats and the pleadings of a much younger Dean. He can hear Dean’s desperate shouts for Sam to go to their room and lock the door. To not come out until Dean comes to get him.

Gabriel plays out his own memory of Dean’s unconscious crisis from just days earlier. He watches the screen with an expression that shows the fractures in the angel’s grace at just witnessing these injustices. Gabriel clears his throat and looks at Sam, “Let me make this easier for you.” Gabriel snaps and the memories freeze and then slowly continue to play out on the screen, one at a time. Gabriel watches as Sam stares at them.

Sam watches Dean get pressed into surfaces and assaulted. Sam watches as Dean is beaten into the ground for things Sam did. He watches Dean give him the majority of the food. He watches Dean play the streets in order to get enough money to pay for food and the motel. He watches Dean look wistfully at the toys John gives Sam. He watches as Dean gets punished and tortured when Sam ran away to Flagstaff. He watches as Dean sends prayer after prayer to the purgatory sky, desperate for Sam to be okay. He watches Dean beg the crossroads demon to bring Sam back. He sees the countless tears and injuries that Dean sustains through the years of their childhood. He hears every insult John ever threw his way. He smells the vomit on John’s breath and the sour taste of alcohol and blood. He watches as Dean, on his hands and knees, scrubs blood and semen and vomit and piss out of motel carpets and the seats of the impala. He watches as Dean is forced into murder and apathy by the mark. He watches himself walk out of the bunker, and feels the shame and guilt that plague Dean every day after that.

Gabriel watches Sam start to shake and cry and whimper as he is forcefully dragged through memory after memory. Sam watches for hours, though it feels like minutes. Gabriel watches the younger Winchester’s body fall to the ground, the impact with his knees resonating sharply. Gabriel watches as Sam falls apart on the floor, calling out for his brother. Begging for Dean to protect him.

Gabriel finally reaches over and places two fingers on Sam’s forehead and brings them back to the present. It’s nearly morning now and Sam is collapsed on the ground, eyes far away. The man blinks, sniffling and shaking with a severe force.

After nearly an hour, Sam finally looks up at the archangel standing before him. Sam’s eyes are bloodshot and haunted. His hair in disarray from his hands pulling at it. His voice is hoarse and broken as he asks, “D-Dean?”

Gabriel looks Sam in the eye and is sadistically pleased by the apparent horror and shock. “You should be ashamed of how you’ve treated him. He was right, you know, all those years ago, he has _never_ betrayed you.”

Sam nods, though the action looks sporadic and twitchy, “You’re right. Or, I mean, _he’s_ right.” Sam’s head falls down to look at the floor, his fingers pulling at the strings of the carpet. “I never knew-” his voice cuts off as he swallows back a sob.

“You keep claiming that he’s selfish. That he’s made you live for him. He’s just doing what he’s always done, Sammy. He’s protecting you.”

Sam swallows another sob and claws at the stinging in his eyes. “Yeah,” he scoffs out. “I guess he’s hardwired to it, huh?”

Gabriel nods and says, “I know Dean hasn’t always been in the right. He’s stepped on toes, I know that. But, it’s _always_ been coming from a place of pure intent.”

“The mark?” Sam asks, “How bad is it?”

Gabriel’s lips come together to form a harsh line before he replies, “I think you know the answer to that. He’s not dramatic, Sam. He’s trying to hide just how much it’s torturing him. How much it’s changing him. But Cas and I, we think the bond can help.”

“But it won’t destroy the mark?”

“No, but it can give Dean the strength he needs to keep fighting.”

Sam sighs, “He’ll never get to stop fighting, will he?”

Gabriel’s eyes fall to the floor much like Sam’s earlier and he says with obvious distress, “No. _That’s_ why he’s the righteous man. He _has_ to be, in order to keep going. Dean will always fight. He will always bleed and cry for others. Because he has no choice. If he did stop, he would stop being….Dean Winchester.”

Sam nods and this time it’s calmer. He looks up at Gabriel and says slowly and with trepidation, “I don’t want to come back, Gabe. I have what I’ve always wanted, man.”

Gabriel smiles, and for the first time since seeing the younger Winchester, it’s genuine. “You don’t have to, Sam. Dean will always want what’s best for you. Surely, you know that.” Gabriel pauses in thought, trying to find the right combination of words to get his meaning across. “Dean wants you to be happy. And he will _never_ place his own peace of mind over that. But all you have to do, to make _him_ happy, is to become part of the family again. Call and talk. Visit. Work with him during this soul bond. He doesn’t need _you_ , he needs your _love_ and _support_ , Sam. And that’s all you can give him. That’s all any of us can give him.”

Sam doesn’t answer but his fingers relax on the ground before him and he lets out a long breath. He scrubs at his eyes and lifts his hands back to run his fingers through his hair. Gabriel can hear his harsh breathing, and the sound is grating. He watches Sam’s hands drop from his hair in surrender and it hurts the celestial being to see Sam this way. “Think it over, Sam. Dean still needs you, just as much as you need him. Leave the anger behind.” Gabriel sighs and flies back to the house, and Sam doesn’t notice the angel is gone for another couple of minutes. Gabriel sits down on the couch with Castiel and Sam collapses into his bed with tears. Gabriel hopes that their talk wasn’t for nothing.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Dean wakes to the dull sounds of three voices speaking. He feels safe, if not completely recognizing the third identity. He yawns and stretches out in lazy relaxation. He slips out of bed and carefully picks Lucy up. He glances at his closet, knowing he should get dressed, but he instead walks out of the room. Once he can hear the voices without the dampening of the door and walls, he beams in excitement. He hops to the top of the stairs and yells, “Cowrie,” as soon as he sees the demon.

The demon soon finds himself with an armful of excited Dean. Crowley tries his best to look unamused, but he fails miserably. “Now, now, pet. Calm down before you knock me over, would you please?”

Dean stops hopping abruptly but his grin is in no way diminished when he pulls back from the forceful hug. “Are you hungry? ‘Cause I am. I’m starving. Do you like food? Do you eat? What are you again? What are you, Daddy?”

Castiel replies, “An angel, baby boy. And Crowley here is a demon.”

Dean’s face scrunches up in confusion but he waves it away a moment later. “Food good, Cowrie!”

Gabriel and Crowley both chuckle at the confident way the boy talks, and Gabriel inquires, “Okay, Deano, watcha want? How hungry are ya’?”

Dean spreads his hands as far apart as they can get and says, “ _THIS_ hungry!”

Gabriel brings a mock hand to his chest in surprise, “My goodness, Deano! You’re as hungry as a dragon! We’d best feed you before you get it in your mind to eat one of your poor angels!”

Dean lurches into motion and Crowley is pulled away and into the kitchen by Dean. The angels follow them, and laugh when they see Crowley looking around himself in complete confusion. Looking lost among the cooking supplies.

“I want muffins! Cowrie, muffins!”

“Okayy? Where are your muffins?” Crowley asks.

Dean giggles and says, “They aren’t here yet, silly! We have to make ‘em!”

Crowley looks at the other two, pleading with his eyes for help. Gabriel rolls his own eyes, but steps forward and scoops Dean up in his arms, “Alright, Deano, but you have to help make them!” Gabriel wonders idly how he ended up being the only semi-all-powerful supernatural being, in this house, to know how to cook.

Dean yells in delight, and he and Gabriel soon get ensconced in their culinary adventure.

When Gabriel and Dean, with an unhelpful but certainly opinionated audience of two, have gotten the dough mixed and ready to bake, the peace is broken. A loud knock cuts through the house and everyone’s eyes turn to the front door. Castiel and Gabriel both move towards the door, and when Dean makes to follow, Crowley hooks Dean’s arm and pulls him up and into his lap. The demon king’s eyes are fixed on the door as well.

Castiel opens the door to see Sam, standing in the closet of the bunker, looking at them. Castiel moves to slam the door shut, but Gabriel steps in the way and says, “I got this, Cassie.”

Castiel’s eyes narrow but he lessens his grip on the door and moves aside so Gabriel can stand fully in front of the tall man.

Sam waves awkwardly, his feet shifting in nervousness, and his eyes moving constantly. “Hello,” he says.

“What can we do for you, Sammy?” Gabriel asks with no hint of malice.

Sam looks up in surprise, and the gratefulness in his gaze makes Gabriel swallow hard. “I just wanted to come by and to….apologize,” Sam says, with clear difficulty getting the last word out.

Gabriel smiles and says, “To us?”

Sam frowns, “No, well, yes. But I mean, Dean. I want to apologize to my brother.”

Castiel shifts his weight and Gabriel doesn’t have to turn to see the surprised expression on his little brother’s face, having seen it many times before. “As long as you’re on your best behaviour. We’re making muffins!” Gabriel then turns and drags Castiel with him back to the kitchen. Sam watches and slowly follows them in, closing the door behind him.

Sam’s eyes take in the small but comfy and inviting living room. His eyes rest on the stairs for a moment, and finally swing across the kitchen he’s standing in. His body stiffens, when he notices the demon, and he glares at Crowley. Sam fights every urge he has to snatch Dean out of the monster’s lap. “Crowley, what are you doing here?” Sam asks through grit teeth.

“He’s checking in on Dean,” Castiel says in a familiar monotone.

“Sam!” Dean says in pure excitement. “Sammyyyyyyy!!!”

Sam’s lips pull up in a small smile and he answers, “Hey, Dean. Heard you were making muffins?”

“Yeah! Da and I just finished mixing the things! Cooking is fun!”

Sam looks around in confusion and repeats, “Da?”

Dean giggles and points towards the archangel behind Sam. Sam turns around to watch Gabriel place a filled muffin tin in the oven. Sam’s brain struggles to catch up with the scene. The archangel and the king of hell being so…..domestic. Sam mumbles, “I see.”

But the taller Winchester can feel the anger boiling up inside him. The king of hell allowed in here before him? Before Dean’s own brother? Crowley, the _monster_ , trusted more than _blood_? Sam grits his teeth even harder and forces his fingers to unfurl from the fists they’ve formed. He breathes in and out for 10 counts, as he’s been told to do, to help alleviate the anger. He reaches some realm of calmness and he uses the opportunity to apologize to Dean, “Dean, about yesterday...I’m sorry. I was a jerk.”

Dean cocks his head in confusion, and it looks so much like Castiel that Sam wants to cry. “That’s okay, Sammy,” Dean says with childlike solemnity.

Sam huffs in amusement and continues, “And I wanted you to know that I support you in… _this_.” Sam gestures lazily around them, at a loss for words.

Dean beams at his brother and gives him two thumbs up. Sam chuckles and bows in mock seriousness, “Thank you, Dean, your majesty.” Sam can’t stop grinning when Dean erupts into a fit of light giggles.

Crowley says, “I think you’re forgetting which one of us is royalty here, Moose.”

Crowley’s tone isn’t mocking, merely teasing, but Sam feels that white hot rage course through him again. He turns to the angels and asks with steel in his voice, “May I speak to you two privately?”

The angels pause, both their eyes going to Dean. Castiel responds first, “Absolutely. Crowley, make sure he doesn’t eat any muffin mix while we’re gone. It’ll just make his tummy hurt later.” Crowley throws them a lazy salute, and the three walk to the other side of the living room.

“Why is _he_ here?” Sam hisses at the angels.

Castiel responds with an infuriating calm, “Because Dean sees him as family. He’s already helped us save Dean’s life. He’s the one who figured out how to make the blood work _with_ Dean instead of _against_ him.”

“Have you guys forgotten that he’s a _demon_ ? Not just a demon, either, but the _king_ of _hell_? How did he even get in here?”

Gabriel shrugs, “Come to terms with the times, Samsquatch. Dean and Crowley have been working together for months now. Dean’s got Crowley on the straight and narrow, even helps run hell at times. It’s a great way to keep hell in line.”

Sam’s eyes almost bug out of his head, “You mean Dean’s been back to hell?”

The angels exchange a quick glance and Castiel replies, “Of course. But don’t worry, Crowley keeps the hell hounds away from him.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “Well, great, _that’s_ a relief. I can’t believe you guys can even let him near Dean!”

“He’s done nothing but look out for and support Dean, since he came back from the dead,” Castiel says pointedly.

Sam huffs out in his growing anger, “Listen here, Cas, you can’t j--”

“No,” Castiel states.

“No? What do you mean, _no_?”

“I’m not going to listen to you, Sam. The only reason you’ve been allowed into our home, is under the expectation that you will support our choices. Dean’s choices. Crowley, like it or not, is here to stay. And frankly, I prefer it this way.”

Sam’s breathing is heavy and his face is starting to tinge red, “Some shit angels you guys are!”

Gabriel steps forward and says with a tone that leaves no room for bullshit, “Samuel. Need I remind you what the two of us discussed last night?”

Sam pales and shakes his head sporadically. “No, no.”

Gabriel raises an eyebrow, gesturing for Sam to go on.

“Okay, fine.” Sam sighs heavily and runs his large hands across his face in exhaustion. “I-I I just can’t be here. Not right now. Everything’s too…. I’m going home.” Sam drops his hands and looks at Castiel. “But I’m coming back. When I have a better….idea of how to control the-the…. you know, _anger._ I may not agree with or even _understand_ all your choices, but Dean is my brother, and he’s going to stay just that.”

Castiel’s eyes are dark in thought, but there’s a small tilt to his lips that shows his approval. “I think Dean would like that very much, Sam.”

Sam nods and his eyes slide to the right of the angel’s head, “And, Cas, I’m, uh, I’m….I’m sorry, man.” Sam clears his throat and tosses his head back to get the loose strands of hair out of his face. “Can one of you possibly get me home? I’m not in the best shape to drive. Or make decisions of any kind, really.”

Castiel smiles, and it’s tentative, but real. “Sure, Sam. Gabriel will take you.”

Gabriel nods and steps up to Sam, placing his fingers on the man’s forehead. A moment later they’re gone. Castiel pauses in thought for a long minute. There’s a spark of hope there for Sam. That perhaps Dean _can_ have the brother he needs. He then makes his way back to the kitchen, where he finds the king of hell trying to keep the muffin mix away from Dean. The demon has had mixed results. Castiel rolls his eyes, a human trait that he quite likes, and steps in to take control of the chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, guys. The fourth part will go over the next couple steps of the process. My plan is to finish the soul bond within the next couple works. Then delve, if there is still interest, into the post bond adventures.  
> Again, thanks for reading and commenting. Whenever I see a comment in my inbox, my heart skips a beat.  
> So thanks for the support of my first fics/series.


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